Forever and Always
by Docdonnalove
Summary: Here's another set of short stories, just like its sister-story Now and Forever. Identical set-up: the Doctor and Donna, sometimes accompanied by their friends, sometimes romantically involved, other times just best pals, on their travels, or home in the Tardis. Enjoy!
1. Alternate Possibilities

**Forever and Always**

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

 _Summary: Another set of short stories, just like its sister-story Now and Forever. Identical set-up, basically round two of the Doctor and Donna, sometimes accompanied by their friends, sometimes romantically involved, other times just best pals. Enjoy!_

* * *

 **Alternate Possibilities**

 _So I was watching a video on YouTube that you should check out if you haven't already seen these scenes, and though I've watched the deleted takes before, I wasn't motivated like this time to conjure up a little material from it. Type in 'Doctor Who – Deleted Scenes – Part 4', and you should find it._

Donna recognized the sound of the Tardis, stirring something in her brain though she knew not what. It had been easy for her not to recognize the Doctor moments before he left her in the kitchen; he was just another bloke passing through her life, and not even her type if she was honest – much too skinny, with hair that was way too out of control. Sharp dresser, though, she had to admit…

But that noise, that wheezing and whirring, cutting out the voice on the other end of the line, drawing her attention by striking her very heart and soul. There was something about it – what was it!? It was so familiar, like the sound of her name being called to come home, like there was somewhere important for her to be, some place she just had to be getting to. More than that, it was like wherever she was supposed to be, there would be someone there. Someone who needed her. All of these emotions being drawn out from one grinding melody.

Then it was gone.

It faded into her imagination and her mind instantly returned to the conversation. Lying in bed, she was still thinking about it, but shrugged it off as being the sound of the rain. What else could it have been? It didn't matter, she reasoned, as she burrowed deeper under the duvet and drifted off to sleep.

-OR-

She rushed out into the rain, leaving the phone dropped on the kitchen floor even as the voice on the other end shouted out her name. She had pushed passed her Gramps, who warned her to get back inside. She knew nothing would stop her, but her heart had sunk when she saw it, the blue box, fading away with each flicker.

"Doctor!" she shouted. But the box was gone. Her head throbbed in discomfort, but it was a dull sensation, a little aftermath or side effect that would settle out soon enough. That stupid Martian! If he had just waited, he would have realized what she now knew herself – her mind wasn't going to burn up at all, not one tiny bit. It just needed time to make space, to cope, to handle and process. She was going to be fine now, a human with the brain of a Time Lord, or Time Lady rather.

'I'll have to do this the hard way. Here goes nothing.' Donna thought, sending out a signal to the Tardis with nothing but her own concentrated thoughts. If the Doctor shared a connection with the time machine, maybe she could, too.

Minutes passed, and Donna was focusing so hard that everything around her melted away. There was no rain, no sound, no water dripping from her hair, no flashes of lightning, no chill ghosting over her wet, glistening skin in the lamplight.

'Please, please, please. _Please_ don't leave me.'

She opened her eyes, and there it was. She sighed through a beaming smile with the breath she had been holding and with relief at the site before her. The blue box that was bigger on the inside. A dumbfounded, slightly frightened, pin-striped suit-clad man standing within her doors, staring out at his companion.

Donna squared her shoulders, and flicked a few saturated strands of ginger hair from the front of her still beaming face, then took off running at full speed towards her best friend, the man she would travel with forever.


	2. The Path Not Taken

_Assume that the tenth doctor hasn't regenerated. So I guess that makes this an AU scenario, which I realize most of these one-shots are… so, though this note probably isn't very helpful at all, just know that I hope this chapter seems like an acceptable possibility. Conjuring up this idea and trying to make it work gave me grief for sure._

* * *

 **The Path Not Taken**

It had been a few years since he had visited the library. Being in the lobby alone, a stock-still body that other visitors just waltzed passed without noticing, like a disregarded 'caution wet floor' sign, made him miss her terribly. No one to chat with, or hold onto, or lead away to some great thing. He was by himself this trip. He usually adored coming to this place, even before he met her. He wasn't even sure why he'd come.

One of the staff members approached him, and greeted him with the familiar tone of programmed, generic cheerfulness, "Good day, Sir. Welcome to The Library. How may I help you?"

The Doctor scratched the back of his head, now reeled in from the river of his flowing thoughts, looking curiously from left to right, up towards the lofty ceiling, then at the figure in front of him, all while scrunching up his face in confusion. "Well, the funny thing is… I don't know."

The face blinked once, then asked, "Are you the Doctor?"

The Doctor's eyes snapped up, and he studied the being carefully. "How did you know that?" he asked quietly, leaning in closer.

The attendant simply swiveled away, instructing the Doctor to follow him without a word. The guide rounded a counter, where a piece of paper was retrieved and promptly given to the Doctor. The time traveler furrowed his brow, then walked away to read his note in private.

 _Hello Sweetie,_

 _You might be wondering just how I got that message to send, bringing you back here to this place, but that's for me to know and you to quite possibly never find out. The reason why however, I shall not withhold. All the adventures you and I have shared - the ones you haven't lived - they were wonderful and romantic, and I wouldn't give them up for anything in the world – you've always been so good to me… and it's why I have to return the same profound kindness to you with one special answer. It's the answer you wanted for so long, the one you troubled yourself over day in and day out, in all the time between us, the one answer that you never thought of, and yet you've had it all along, hidden away on a shelf. If only you looked then for the spoilers..._

 _So my darling, find my diary, and inside you'll discover the solution to the puzzle you never could solve. You never forgot her, and you never gave up. I want you to rescue her, share adventures with her, and above all, be happy. If somehow there's still room for me in your future, come find me, sweetheart. I'll see you some day._

 _Xoxo,_

 _River Song_

It was an hour later that he closed the blue journal. The Doctor ran a hand through his spiked hair. This was huge. He was going to have to change the future, change history, alter the timelines that he thought were splayed out in front of him in one finite path, one that included River Song. He knew River was supposed to be his wife, therefore he naturally couldn't abandon her. So what now? Bring Donna back and say 'so long' to River? No, she was brilliant, he couldn't. Surely he would be loyal to River, the woman he would marry, and would develop feelings for. Give back everything he stole from his best friend, or pursue the future he was already heading toward? Go back and fix his biggest mistake, or continue moving forward?

He slowly walked over to a chair that was facing a window, on suddenly wobbly legs. He gazed absently at all the gliding hover-cars, the people walking, and the orange hues of the sunset mingling together. He was slightly calmer now, but he still couldn't choose. He did the only thing he could do – he would take things one day at a time, for the sake of his best mate. It was hard enough living with the guilt during the months it had been since he said good-bye to Donna, more or less, and now he was being given a chance to make it right. What kind of friend would he be if he walked away from such an opportunity? And he wouldn't deny River a future with him; he hoped that would come later, somehow with Donna still at his side. A very conflicted man, the Doctor was, but he knew for certain that _not_ restoring Donna to her former glory would haunt him for the rest of his Time Lord days, especially now that he had an antidote of sorts, thanks to River and the information in her diary. He would repay her any way that he could.

"Why did you come back? I don't understand. River and you, you and River, you had a future! You told me so yourself." Donna protested as he explained things to her over coffee in the same shop he had met with Wilf.

He placed his cup back down on the table, swallowing before replying. "I couldn't choose, there was no way. I'll figure something out for River. Time's a funny thing you know, timey-wimey and wibbly-wobbly and all that, and just a tiny bit unreliable and surprising... actually, a lot a bit. If I've learned anything from all this, it's that time is exactly that - unreliable, and surprising." Looking at her face at the end of his rant, he realized he lost her a little bit, and focused on his next words. "Such a large part of me loves you as my best friend, Donna. It was wrong the way I left things. And if you agree to come with me again, there's no telling whether or not, or even when, I'll bump into River, but I know without a doubt that I would be thrilled to have you back on board. I've missed you." He cleared his throat abruptly. "Things have changed, and there are probably so many more changes along the way that I can't foresee now. What do you say? Join me?"

There was so much hope beaming at her from the deep brown pools of his eyes. "You remember what I said, don't you, Spaceman?" she reached across the table and took his hand. "Forever."

He grinned, and squeezed her hand. After the moment passed, Donna picked up her cup with both hands, blowing away the last remaining tendrils of steam. "We have to find River now, you know that." She took a sip of coffee, and seeing his questioning expression, continued, "To thank her, of course. She's the reason you came back, after all."

She hadn't intended to jab at his guilt, but it was triggered anyway. "Donna, she's not the _only_ reason. I wouldn't have come back for just anyone, and I _always_ wanted to come back for you." he looked her directly in the eyes, staring intently so she would understand how genuinely he felt.

She gently swatted him on the knuckles, "I know that, you Dumbo. And believe me, I'm flattered you feel that way," he could tell by the tone in her voice that she didn't believe she was special enough, even now, after everything, but since she had agreed to travel with him again, he would work on changing her perspective of herself, "but I still think the woman deserves gratitude. If it weren't for her," he gave her a look of warning, thinking she was going to remark how he wouldn't have come back otherwise, but she matched his warning look, keeping him quiet so she could finish, "I'd never know how lucky I am."

"Lucky?" he was surprised by her word choice.

"Yes, lucky!" she giggled, tucking a strand of ginger hair behind her ear, "Think about it Martian, I've got you back for a best friend, haven't I?"

They smiled, and finished their coffees over conversations about what they'd been up to, where they would go, and mildly arguing over who was going to be the one to tell Sylvia.


	3. Planet of the Meteor Showers

_Thought of this one while watching the Perseid meteor shower. It seemed like a good setting for a chapter. Admittedly a little bland, bit slow, but hopefully you still find a way to enjoy it. More soon!_

* * *

 **Planet of the Meteor Showers**

It was meant to be a fun adventure (they all were), but things just kept going wrong. The Doctor thought Donna and Jack needed a bit of rest and relaxation after the dilemmas they'd gotten themselves into over the past month, and mostly because of the Doctor insisting on investigating one strange thing or another. He owed them this.

He stood in the doorway of the Tardis, doors open, with his arm propped against the frame, eyes forward and looking into the darkness. "Yup, this is it! Come on guys!"

Donna got up from the jump-seat rather sluggishly, and Jack followed behind her in equal measure. The Doctor strode through tall grasses, the tips reaching the middle of his chest. The sky was inky, dotted with twinkling white specs. There didn't seem to be anyone else around. None of them could see where they were putting their feet, but there was definitely solid ground beneath them. There was a noise similar to crickets, but they weren't on Earth, so Donna didn't know what she was hearing for sure. It didn't take her long to begin complaining.

"Doctor, I can't see anything. Why are we here?" she huffed, agitatedly. She was so tired. When they got back to the Tardis earlier, she had hoped for a simple night, one where she could take a hot bath, have a nice cuppa, and fall asleep burrowed in her cozy bed… that was until the Doctor said he was taking both her and Jack somewhere.

"You'll see, Donna. It's not much further." The Doctor assured her, as she looked at the back of his head. Jack was behind her, and hadn't spoken much. They trekked for a few more minutes before the blades of grass gave way to an open field, one so large Donna couldn't decipher where it ended, where its border lied.

"What is this, Doc?" Jack finally asked, confused. The three of them stood at the edge. The Doctor looked sideways at Jack with a smug grin pulling at the corners of his mouth, impressed by what he was about to say without having said it. "What this is, is the best place in the _universe_ to see a meteor shower." He took up both their hands. "This way!"

They were nearing the middle, Donna reasoned. "Right here is good, it's perfect." The Doctor announced excitedly. He reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a quilted blanket. He shook it out a couple of times, then spread it smoothly over the ground. He sat in the middle, and patted the spaces next to him indicating to Jack and Donna to sit beside him. With Donna on his left, and Jack on his right, he laid back. Donna and Jack watched as he put both his hands behind his head and bent his knees, crossing one leg over the other, happily bobbing his toes.

Donna reclined on her arms, crossing her ankles. Jack sat with criss-crossed legs and wiped some sleep out of his eyes.

"So we're here to see shooting stars?" Donna asked, unenthused.

"Well, technically, there's no such thing as shooting stars. They're actually meteors, comprised almost exclusively of iron and dust particles. It's fascinating stuff."

"Yeah." Donna said on a sigh. The Doctor was trying to lighten the mood, but he feared he wasn't succeeding. He knew Donna liked meteor showers, she just wasn't in the mood. He hoped as the night progressed, things would improve. He was hoping that at least one thing would go right.

From the corner of his eye, Jack thought he saw a streak of light race across the sky. The Doctor caught his head turn just slightly.

"Did you see one?"

"I think so." Slowly, Jack lowered himself down, resting his back on the soft blanket.

"There's one!" Donna said, pointing a finger at the spot in the sky where a trail of light was fading.

They take turns declaring a meteor sighting, sometimes chiming in at the same time, and giggling at themselves.

"This is nice." Donna says, smiling softly while still looking up at night sky.

The Doctor smiles, and gives a light laugh, "Just wait, the best is yet to come."

It isn't long before a multitude of meteors soar across the sky, like painted lines across a canvas, being created in real-time. In one wave of bright streaks, they each fall at a nearly identical pace. Their luminescence casts its glow down upon the planet's surface, engulfing the three audience members in a modest luster.

"Wow, I've never seen anything like this." Jack admitted, mesmerized.

The meteors traveled fast, the trails behind them fading like an after-image. There was another troop of them, and then another, gliding smoothly and brightly like pearls of fire.

The sightings slowed, and only about one per minute zoomed across the sky now. They were still thrilled each time they spotted one, unable to contain the excitement from bubbling up and out. It was relaxing - laying on the cool ground, on a warm blanket, in the comfort of good friends, with nothing filling their vision but a navy blue backdrop speckled with tiny marks of white light. Donna reached her arm out to the side, smoothing her palm over the shorter blades of grass. They were cool to the touch, and felt like water as she ran her hand over them gently.

"Thank you, Spaceman." She voiced, and Jack followed suit. The Doctor put an arm around each of them, squeezing them. Everyone was feeling so much better, and for a wonderful change of the Doctor's pace, something went right.


	4. Screwdriver

**Screwdriver**

"It doesn't do wood!" the Doctor, annoyed and frustrated, insisted at hearing yet another of Donna's aggravated huffs. The monsoon on the uninhabited planet they were standing on was causing massive flash flooding. They had abandoned their picnic in the forest and raced for the Tardis as the rain hammered down on them. The door in front of them was ancient, yet completely in tact and sturdy as a rock. It had stood there from the beginning of the civilization that thrived on the planet, and survived the days of neglect after the civilization perished. If not for their predicament, the Doctor would be spewing compliments about the door's craftsmanship and durability.

The Doctor tried kicking it down with no success. He looked at the door and up at the wall that surrounded it, begging for an idea to strike him. The wall was fifty feet tall (at least), and even though the door was regular in size, they couldn't get through, and it was their only way to the Tardis.

"It won't work, Donna. It's a wooden door. We're trapped." The Doctor stomped his foot, sending the water around his calves splashing upwards.

"Well it's still a screwdriver, ain't it? Give it here, Bozo!" Donna snatched it out of his hand and looked at the bottom of the device for a brief moment. She flicked a piece down, like a switch on a box-cutter knife, and out popped the shank and blade of a screwdriver. _'I forgot I installed that'_ the Doctor mused in awe at Donna's display of cleverness.

She twisted it against the screws holding the hinges in place. One by one they plunged into the water, which was continuing to rise, but by they time it reached their thighs, Donna had entirely unlatched the door from its frame. On the other side, the Tardis was waiting with open doors, encouraging them to get inside. A blast of welcoming heat greeted them as they crossed the threshold.

When they were safely in the Vortex, the Doctor squelched his way over to Donna, who was leaning against a railing and peeling off one of her saturated socks.

He looked at her with a grin. When she noticed his expression, she asked, "What? Am I dripping on something important?" She looked below her through the grating with concern for the ship.

"Brilliant."

"Huh?" she guided a wet strand of hair back in place as confusion wrinkled the features on her face.

"I said brilliant. You. Just then. Absolutely brilliant." He beamed.

"Pfft." She dismissed, flapping her hand and turning her attention back to her socks, "It's a screwdriver. There was a door. It was obvious!" she pointed out matter-of-factly.

"I didn't think of it, and I'm a genius." Donna rolled her eyes at the grandiose edge to his voice, but then his tone changed, "Seriously Donna, you're brilliant."

"Thanks, Spaceman." She said, and stood away from the railing, socks in hand. He knew she was only letting it go so he would stop trying to convince her. She was tired of hearing it, but he would never get tired of telling her. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to put these and the rest of my drenched clothing in the wash." She was heading towards her room, but spun around to meet his gaze, "Meet me in the kitchen for tea and cake?"

"Wouldn't miss it." he winked, and watched her walk away. Some day he would figure out how to make her believe him.

* * *

 _A short one, but there are more on the way as soon as I finish editing them. Stay tuned!_


	5. I Dare You

**I Dare You**

Blame it on their boredom, blame it on the wine, blame it on the weather; wherever the blame should fall, it wouldn't matter much. The Doctor and Donna were delightedly sloshed on the two bottles of Cabernet the Tardis had selected especially for them – whatever the reason was that they started downing glass after glass wasn't a care to them at the moment. Truth be told, they had saved the day in a major way, rescuing two alien races and an entire planet, but the light and airy feeling that was engulfing them now made their adventure seem like it was months ago.

Donna couldn't be bothered that she was wearing her clothes inside out and attempting to lick her elbow in the amount of time it took her to sing the alphabet, she felt happy, and she felt comfortable. She wasn't embarrassed in front of this pinstriped Martian, she could be herself freely, and it felt _so good_.

The wine coursing through the Doctor's veins was only doing so because he allowed it to. Normally, his Time Lord biology would filter it out and treat the alcohol as a toxin, but he had nothing to worry about with Donna around. He could let loose without fear. So what if he was blindfolded, wearing the reddest shade of lipstick Donna could find, and doing the Macarena? He was happy.

"W, X, Y, and Z. Alright," Donna let her arm fall, elbow un-licked, "that's enough dancing. Truth or dare, fruitcake?"

"Truth." The Doctor answered with a chuckle, hands on his head. He turned around towards her voice with the blindfold still in place, flailing his arms out in front of himself in search of his best friend.

Donna caught his arms, and pulled the blindfold off, looking at him excitedly, "Okay then. Ready?" The Doctor nodded.

"Remember, you have to tell the truth!" she warned, pointing a finger at him though he playfully swiped at it.

They stared at each other for at least a minute, no less than sixty seconds. Both waited in silence, before Donna erupted, "Well what's your answer, Space-dunce!?"

"What answer?"

"The answer to the Truth, Dum-bo!" she shouted.

"You didn't ask me for the Truth yet, Don-na!" The Doctor mimicked the rhythm of her speech.

The Doctor waited for her to realize her error, and when she did, she burst into a fit of classic Donna cackles, and the Doctor was helpless but to laugh right alongside her.

They were almost falling over on each other in their beyond tipsy state, the wine making their legs wobbly, their skin growing hot from a combination of the alcohol and their hysterical laughing. They were gasping and struggling to stay upright. When finally they calmed, they were holding onto each other's forearms for support, panting lightly, eyes glistening.

"So, are you going to tell me the truth now?" Donna asked, wiping the corner of her eye.

"Sure." The Doctor hiccupped. Donna shook away the rest of her foolishness, and grabbed his chin with her thumb and index finger, forcing his lips to look like they belonged on a fish rather than a person. She looked him in the eyes before she posed her question.

"Did you, Doctor and Spaceman of the Tardis and all things galactic or otherwise universal, eat my Jammie Dodgers?" Donna asked seriously, squinting her eyes for good measure.

The Doctor gulped nervously, face still squished in Donna's grasp. "Yes, yes I did." He replied after a few tense beats.

Only a second later was he running down the halls to escape the ginger companion chasing after him with a well-hidden water pistol.


	6. I Dirty Dare You

_Be warned, this one is a bit more on the PG-13 side, but it's nothing traumatizing, I promise. You may read this in connection with the previous chapter, or on its own – your choice! This might seem a little OOC, but hopefully it's not too much._

 **I** ** _Dirty_** **Dare You**

"I think I want to play a game." Donna said curiously as they cuddled on the couch together. She was cozily leaning into his embrace as the commercials during the show they were watching continued to play, casting flashes of changing colors upon them and the darkened room they occupied.

"Oh yeah?" The Doctor's interest was piqued now, and he gazed at her with raised eyebrows. He stroked her arm absently. "What kind of game?"

"Well," Donna put a finger to her chin in a thoughtful gesture, "it's the same game we played last night… only I was thinking of trying out a much… dirtier version..."

The Doctor's eyes widened as realization and understanding struck him. "Count me in!"

"So, for example," Donna scooted away slightly to face him better, depositing her ginger hair on her shoulder, "if I said to you, truth or dare, and you said," she indicated for him to give an answer – "dare" he chirped low - "then I would say, I _dirty_ dare you to kiss me."

He moved in towards her lips, but she stopped him by placing a steady hand on his shoulder, "Right here." She pointed at the top of her cleavage.

The air from his nose ghosted across her flesh as he moved nearer to his target. He kissed her skin, slowly and tenderly, and she closed her eyes, savoring the all too brief moment for everything it was.

"Your turn." she sighed breathlessly as he reclined away slightly.

"Truth or dare, Donna Noble?"

"Ooh," a rumble escaped her throat, "definitely dare."

His tongue came out to swipe across his bottom lip as he thought of a dare. "Without talking… I dare you to tell me what your favorite part of a man's body is."

"Martians included?" she joked.

"Martians included." he answered with a smirk.

Donna smiled, nodding in approval and acceptance. She leaned carefully across the couch. When she kissed him, she brought herself up to her knees atop the cushions, guiding the Doctor with her so they would more or less be the same height. Just as he was thinking it must be the mouth that's her favorite, two hands unmistakably squeezed his bum.

Donna separated herself from him and winked at his stunned face. It certainly didn't escape him that the kiss was unnecessary, not unwelcome of course, but he was surprised she'd boldly stolen a smooch, and such a long one at that.

"Truth? Or dare?" she asked saucily.

"Dare, you minx."

"Hmm," she smiled coquettishly, "in that case, I really dirty dare you," she moved her lips close against his ear, her sultry voice and warm breath reverberating against his tingling senses, "to take me to your room, and do whatever you want with me."

The Doctor wasted no time, and scooped her up into his arms, closing his bedroom door behind him with a kick of his foot. He hoped they got to play this game more often, and by the end of the night, so did Donna.


	7. Kiss the Cook

_If you need one, let this serve as a warning for domestics and fluff. No space adventures in this chapter. And, I know French Silk Pie isn't British, it's not even French, but I wanted to use it in this anyway. Blame a craving…_

* * *

 **Kiss the Cook**

She was moving about the kitchen, like a contestant on a cooking show at the point in the competition where the last few seconds are ticking down. At the stove, in the pantry, under the sink, stirring at the counter, peeping in the oven, re-tying her apron; she barely stopped to breathe. The Doctor felt like he needed a nap just watching her.

He knew as he leaned against the frame that it would go something like this. She would get offended, and insist on doing everything on her own. He remembered just yesterday how the phone call with her mother went.

"Hello, mum. How are you and Gramps?" Donna greeted when her mother answered. She was sat up in bed late one night with the Doctor when she thought to call home and check on things.

"We miss you, Donna. Gramps says he wants to show you the new way he's organized the newspaper stand, but never mind that old coot. How are you, darling?" Sylvia replied. To the Doctor's sensitive (and intentionally eavesdropping) ears, it sounded like the conversation would be pleasant for a change.

"Oh fine, you know. We've just been to a new planet actually. I saw a pair of shoes there that I positively know you'd have swooned over. You could wear them to Suzette's next dinner party." There was a pause as Donna waited to see if her mother would offer a comment, but none came. "You really ought to come with us some time. The Doctor thinks it would be a smashing idea for you and Gramps to come see the stars, just once."

The Doctor had rolled his eyes at this point, lowering his book onto his lap; ' _smashing'_ was the word he'd used alright when thinking of having Sylvia over, but it was within the context of _smashing his head against the wall_.

"I know, dear. Maybe someday. You know you could come home for dinner more often. That's a safe idea." Sylvia suggested.

"Mum, the Tardis _is_ safe." Donna rolled her eyes. She ran her finger around the collar of her pajama top as she pondered her next words, making sure to speak slowly and carefully, "Why don't we have dinner here? We'll come to Chiswick, but instead of coming to your house, you and Gramps could come here." Her tone brightened in an effort to convince her mum, "We could give you a proper tour! You might be more inclined to travel with us if you spent some time inside her. She's really a marvel, the Old Girl."

"Oh, no, no, no, that won't do."

"And why not?" This was the point Donna began feeling offended.

"It's not so much the Tardis sweetheart, it's just…"

"What is it, mum? Is it the Doctor?"

The Doctor looked sideways at Donna with just his eyes, wondering why she'd even ask – he had been nothing but charming to Sylvia since his engagement to Donna, and it required a lot from him to behave so gentlemanly towards her. Some of the things he heard her say to Donna could never be forgiven, even if Donna did develop a knack for letting them roll of her shoulders to stow away in some deeper place within.

"No…"

"Well what then? Out with it, mother." Donna insisted as collectedly as she could.

"How about you let _me_ cook and bring it over, doesn't that sound nice?"

Donna huffed. "So that's it then. You don't think I can handle cooking dinner for everyone." Boy was she miffed now...

Sylvia was caught, yet she tried in vain to dissuade her daughter's thinking. "No Donna, it's not that at all." Donna could tell her mum was biting her lip, one of her tell-tale signs of lying. On one occasion, the Doctor had said to Donna that that's where she must have inherited the habit from, and upon Donna's glare, had never mentioned the similarity again.

There was some muffled noises – fake ones, Donna reasoned – and in a matter of seconds her mother had ended the call, promising to call back soon.

Donna slammed the phone down on the bedside table, and the Doctor closed his book. He put his arm around Donna, who began biting her nails, a look of reserved fury tightening her facial features.

"Donna, you don't have to get frustrated. I know you cook well enough, and so do you – that's all that should matter." She wasn't calming down, or even acknowledging him. "So your mother made a jab once about how skinny I am and the whole, 'don't you feed him, or is your cooking so terrible he'd rather starve'." He imitated Sylvia's tone in a comical way to make her laugh, even chuckle just a tiny bit. "It doesn't matter, Donna. Never mind."

"She doesn't trust me to do anything!" Donna finally burst. "She loves when I bring her pastries for tea, the one time she even thought they were bought from a bakery! But no! I made those!" she pointed a thumb at herself emphatically. "The steak and ale pie I brought over for Gramps that she sampled and then raved about," she waved her hands a bit maniacally, "I made that, too! But yet I can't be trusted to have a get-together at supper. Why can't it be good enough, anything I do, why can't it ever be good enough?" she buried her face in her hands.

"I don't know, darling. It's the way she's always been. Don't let it get you so upset." He rubbed her back soothingly, but she flung her head out of her hands.

"I'm not upset! I'm angry! I'll show her… I'm cooking dinner tomorrow night, they're coming into the Old Girl, everyone will love it, and that's all there is to it!" she said with finality, and shoved herself under the duvet, towards the Doctor's chest. He continued to rub her back until he thought she was asleep, until her drowsy voice woke him from his own drifting.

"You really like what I cook for you?"

"Yes, Donna. Your food is some of the best I've ever had, and I've been around long enough to know."

"She's right though, you are too skinny."

"Shh, sleep now. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day."

And now here they were – Sylvia and Wilf due at any moment and Donna racing in the kitchen to get everything done on time.

He ventured into the kitchen. There were several dishes prepared, and they were almost completed. They looked wonderful, just a few more finishing touches and everything would be perfect. "Donna." he said.

Without turning to him, she replied feverishly, "I've got it under control, Spaceman." She stirred the pot quickly.

"Donna, just slow down, alright? You're going to-" he tried to warn her but it was too late, a splatter of hot liquid splashed against the inside of the pot and landed on her bare arm. She winced but didn't stop.

"Donna, come here for a sec." He pulled her gently by the arm, and she reluctantly allowed him to lead her a few feet away, spoon in hand. "Listen to me," he grasped her shoulders, "everything is going to be delicious, everything is going to be fine. But you, my dear, need to calm down just a little." He wiped a smear of flour off her forehead.

"You're sure the gravy doesn't need more salt?" she asked.

"I'm sure." The Doctor nodded once.

"And the vegetables aren't too tender?"

"They're perfect." he kissed his fingertips and held up an a-ok symbol.

"Do you think we should get another bottle of Chardonnay?"

"Well… maybe for you and I but that's later." he bobbed his eyebrows playfully.

"Maybe I should shave more chocolate for the pie…"

"Donna, look at me." He grasped her shoulders more firmly as she was turning away, "you're driving yourself bonkers when there's no need. Just finish up what you've got left. Everything is going to be scrumptious. Just relax."

Her wild eyes mellowed, and she was able to slow her breathing.

"You're right." She agreed. "Be a doll and set the table, yeah?" she patted his shoulder, placing chicken breasts on a platter and pouring gravy into a serving boat, "They'll be here soon, so don't faff about!"

"Alright." The Doctor came up behind her and kissed her quickly, before getting to work in the Tardis's elegant dining room.

When it's over, she still can't believe it. Her mum loved everything, it was 'amazing' she'd said – dinner rolls with an herb butter, lemon and thyme roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, chicken gravy, a vegetable medley, a side of curry for her granddad, and what everyone raved about most of all, her grandmother Eileen's marvelous, decadent, French Silk pie, and _all_ from scratch.

In the kitchen, she and the Doctor were sharing a second slice of pie, celebrating Donna's achievement. They were alone now, the Tardis volunteered to clean the dishes, and leftovers were tucked away, most having been sent home with Sylvia and Wilf.

"I can't believe nothing went pear-shaped, not one thing." Donna mused.

"That's a good thing, 'cause I hate pears." The Doctor swirled wine in his glass, looking into the distance with a thoughtful expression. "I think the highlight of the night, by far, was the whipped cream."

Donna chuckled, moving the forkful of pie around in her mouth. "Yeah," she swallowed, "me too."

Earlier in the evening, Donna, Gramps, and the Doctor had noticed a stray spot of whipped cream on the corner of Sylvia's mouth. They exchanged grins for a few moments before Donna cleared her throat and gained her mother's attention, motioning on herself where mother ought to wipe clean. Before dessert was over, Wilf dabbed a bit of it on his own mouth to copy his daughter, and both the Doctor and Donna nearly burst with laughter.

Gramps had been ecstatic about the pie, and the fact that Donna managed to make everything on her own, though he hastily added, "I never doubted you, my girl. You're a top-notch cook. Bang up job, sweetheart." He enthused over another bite, winking at her across the table.

The Doctor pours a little more wine into their glasses, and corks the bottle. He takes up a forkful of his pie and feeds it to Donna, who then returns the gesture. He groans, for what must be the twelfth time, over the luscious taste of chocolate and whipped cream together.

Donna seemed to suddenly remember something, "You forgot to do something, Spaceman. Shame on you." she admonished.

"What would that be?"

"You forgot to kiss the cook." She smiled.

"Mmm, so I did." He grinned and leaned forward, "My compliments to the chef." He kissed her affectionately.

* * *

 _I know, it's all been very domestic with these past few chapters. If that's bothering you, don't worry, I'm hoping to steer myself into more cosmic waters very soon._


	8. Minnie's Mantel

_Inspired after re-watching The End of Time, an episode that is terribly hard to sit through without crying._

 _Don't worry Ashena-Iulik, I'm working steadily on your requested whump chapter. If all goes well, I should have it posted by mid-week._

 **Minnie's Mantel**

She pulled up to the quaint house and turned off the engine. Grabbing the bags from Tesco out of the back seat, she walked up the pathway to the front porch. She knocked on the front door, balancing the two large grocery bags in her arms.

"Hello, sweetheart!" her Gramps greeted her when he opened the door.

"Aye aye." Donna returned with a smile.

"Here, let me get those." said Wilf, reaching for a bag.

"Oh no, Gramps, don't be silly. I've got them." Donna insisted politely, walking passed as he held the door ajar.

"You are a good girl." Wilf smiled proudly as his granddaughter carried the items into the kitchen. "So what have you brought me?"

"Let's see," Donna listed the items as she retrieved them from the bags one at a time. When she pulled out a packet of his favorite crisps, she couldn't help but giggle at his euphoric reaction. Soon, she was making tea and plating sandwiches for the two of them.

"You know," she says loudly, so her Gramps can hear her from the loo, "Minnie's got such an adorable place. It's small but there's plenty of room for two, and she keeps it so tidy."

"Too right," Gramps says, emerging into the kitchen and sitting at the table where Donna placed his lunch, "I'm surprised she asked me to do the house-sitting. I thought it would have been that fellow from the club... Winston his name is."

Donna sat across from Wilf, "I think she fancies you."

"What! Don't you start now; Minnie's supposed to be the menace, not you." Wilf playfully admonished. Donna grinned seeing the slight blush that reddened his cheeks.

They polished off their sandwiches in pleasant silence. Taking their tea into the living room, Gramps switched on the telly. Halfway through a re-run of Top Gear, Donna's interest strayed. "Hey," she said suddenly, lifting away from the couch and carrying herself over to the mantel where her attention had been drawn. "It's that man!"

"Who, sweetheart?" Wilf leaned back against the sofa to try and see what she was looking at.

Donna leaned in closer towards the picture frame. "The man that was at mum's that night. John something or other. He's so familiar..." She stared at the man's image – long brown coat, blue suit, hair that was all sort of... stickey-uppey. In the picture, he was surrounded by a group of senior citizens, one of them was Minnie, and most of the others she recognized as friends and acquaintances of her granddad.

He realized with a well maintained panic what she must be looking at, and rose from the couch rapidly. "Never mind, eh?" Wilf came over and put his arm around her shoulders, steering her back to the couch. "Come sit, you're supposed to be keeping me company, remember? There's a good girl. Ah now look!" he conjured a string of laughs, "That Jeremy Clarkson, his deadpan wit always makes me laugh!" Donna laughed too, and Wilf sighed quietly now that her attention was firmly on the program.

Wilf cursed himself for not even knowing the picture was there, but thanked the stars the potential crisis was averted. He loved Donna so dearly.

They watch their program, they do a bit of cleaning, Donna leaves him with dinner prepped and ready for the oven, and by the time she's saying 'See ya tomorrow, Gramps, love you,' she's forgotten all about the photo on Minnie's mantel.


	9. Not a Sound

_A bit of whump as per_ _Ashena-Iulik_ _'s request. Sorry this took longer, I have no idea how it got to be Friday already…_

 **Not a Sound**

"Alright Donna," he said, shrugging on his long brown coat, a twinkle in his eye, "prepare to be mesmerized."

She stood beside him, "This isn't going to be another one of those outer space gizmo conventions, is it?" she asked dismally.

"Oh no, this is so much better." He said with a wide, energetic smile, "Shall we?" he put his arm out, and she looped hers around it without delay. He happily led her beyond the Tardis doors.

The atmosphere around them was cast in a sapphire haze, as if both the Doctor and Donna were looking through blue-tinted lenses. Other than that, it seemed like they were stood in a normal car park, except for the cars of course: crafts of various shapes and sizes were arranged in concentric circles rather than straight lines, the crafts themselves of foreign yet remarkable design.

Seeing that most of the pilots, drivers, passengers and so forth were piling into their crafts, Donna asked rather confused, "Where are we, and why is everyone leaving?"

"The park is closing, of course people will be leaving, Donna. Don't be silly." The crafts began departing one by one, hovering into the air and humming overhead, before whizzing away into the haze of blue sky.

She glared at him, "If it's closing time, then why are we here?"

"Oh, Earthgirl, you should know by now. We've got special behind-the-scenes access!" He waved his psychic paper at her, grinning cheekily. "Come on!" he said, grabbing her hand.

They approached the main entrance, letters reading 'Galaxy Waterfall' in an arch above the opening where a few stragglers were continuing to exit. The Doctor knocked on the glass where attendants usually sat to exchange payment for access passes, but being that the attraction was closed, the booth was unmanned.

The Doctor knocked louder, calling, "Excuse us, please! Customers needing assistance!"

A bemused clerk appeared, "Sorry sir, but the Galaxy Waterfall is closed now. I'm afraid you'll have to come back tomorrow. We open at-"

The Doctor interrupted by presenting his psychic paper, "My apologies, but we're inspecting the premises for health and safety purposes, if you don't mind. Our kind of examination cannot be performed while visitors are inside the park."

"Oh, right." The young clerk looked at the paper, and immediately changed his attitude, "Go right through, sir, madam." He nodded at the two of them.

"Thank you very much," the Doctor squinted at the nametag on the clerk's shirt, "Tom. You're sure to get a promotion for dealing with us so respectfully. One day you may run this place! Cheerio!" The Doctor enthused, with Donna tugging at his sleeve.

As they walked away, she heatedly whispered, "You'll blow our cover, Spaceman. You always get carried away with theatrics."

"We're alright, Donna. Now come on, I've been wanting you to see this for a long time!" he picked up the pace.

They strolled along wooded paths, what could have been hiking trails if they were on earth. The Doctor gave Donna his normal history spiel about the planet they were on and the people that inhabited it, "Donna, you're on the planet Mykopotamia, the first human ever to tread its grounds. Isn't that brilliant?" He smiled his characteristically gleeful grin.

"On this planet there are people called Mykos, fittingly. They're an average species, similar to humans except for their appearance. They also have a much greater affection and respect for nature. The time period is, let's see…" he licked his finger and held it in the air as though he was testing the atmosphere, "ah, yes! It's their Newest Modern Age – there have been 7 – and they will soon be at war with planet Zet, because the Z-people want to destroy places like this where nature is celebrated."

"Why would they do that?" Donna asked, frowning slightly.

"Because they don't believe in making profit from nature, and this park we're in is against most of everything they represent. They are, if you will, the tree-huggers of this galaxy, to the extreme. Unfortunately, being 'tree-huggers' does not put them above violence."

There was a clearing ahead, and a substantial body of water surrounding by railings to block spectators from getting too close. Donna thought it was just a plain waterfall. She'd seen them before, so what's the big deal? He brought her all this way to show her a waterfall?

Then, as she looked closer at the water, beyond the barriers set for normal visitors to the park, there was something about it that was remarkably different. It was glittering, it was sparkling, the way no water she had ever seen could.

The water looked like the night sky, a deep purple and blue swirled together, with dots of white peppering the constantly moving liquid. It was as if someone took the most amazing scenes from space that Donna had ever seen, and transformed them into a fluid. The steep plunge from the edge of the waterfall made almost no noise as it hit the bottom, where a pool of cosmic water slowly rippled towards the edge.

"Galaxy Waterfall." The Doctor sighed proudly.

They stepped closer, and Donna bent down to take a closer look. "Can I?" she asked, looking up at him and dangling her finger just above the surface.

"Sure." The Doctor replied, so she stuck her finger in, and the fleshy color of her skin was swallowed up by the waters' smooth, oily texture. She stood up and examined her finger, neither was it stained blue nor wet, not even by a drop.

"That's amazing." She said quietly. There was a moment where neither one of them spoke, they simply chose to take it all in, this magnificent feature nature had conjured.

"Donna," he said, "look up."

When she did, she couldn't believe her eyes, letting out a stunned gasp. "What is that!?"

"That's the sky." He explained simply.

"But it didn't look like that at the car park!" Far above her, waves rippled across the atmosphere, the way it looked when she walked through a shark tunnel at their last trip to a planet with an entire aquarium built around it, only this was on a much more massive scale. The cerulean water looked like it would fall on her, like it would dump down and positively drown her, and at first she was a tad nervous, but it never fell.

"It's like… the Northern Lights, only… it's the whole sky!" she said, completely awestruck.

"It only looks that way when you stand here, at the edge. The effect goes away when you step back." The Doctor was standing with his hands in his pockets, letting his head fall back to watch the curving and wiggling of the waves overhead.

She did, to test his knowledge, and sure enough, the sky looked normal in a matter of seconds, like a hologram.

"Blimey." She whispered, breathless.

In a more excited tone, the Doctor spoke, reaching into his coat pocket. "I've always wanted to come here so I could do this." He retrieved a tiny vial.

"What's that for?" Donna asked.

"So I can take a sample. The sonic gives me basic information, but you know me, ever so curious."

He kneeled down at the water's edge, and dipped the key-sized bottle into the water. It disappeared in the fluid darkness just like Donna's finger.

Donna took the moment to step back, then step forwards, and back again, to watch the sky glimmer from one appearance to the next.

There was a commotion behind them, and three burly figures suddenly surrounded them.

At the same time the word 'stop' was shouted by the center figure, a loud bang ricocheted against the waterfall and echoed across the water below it.

The Doctor stood on unsteady feet, and Donna offered her hand. She believed it was a simple case of unstable footing on marshy grasses causing the Doctor to sway when he rose. The bang, she reasoned at that moment, was merely a noise to alert them that they were trespassing, like an alarm or a buzzer.

"You are not supposed to be here. You will be taken for questioning." said the officer in the center, dressed in silver clothes, and flanked on either side by two additional guards.

"Why do you want to question us?" Donna asked.

"You are Z-people; Zet spies." came the monotonous answer.

The impassive tone continued, addressing Donna exclusively, "No inspection was scheduled today. Your partner lied to the clerk, and you both are therefore under arrest. Your accomplice has received punishment for his crime."

"What?" Donna asks, then notices the Doctor's other hand gripping his side, and the crimson pool growing in size beneath his hand.

"Oh my god! Doctor!" it was then that the severity of the loud bang sank in, and her gut twisted tightly in heavy knots as she realized the Doctor had been injured. "What did they do, shoot you?" but the Doctor was unable to reply, his jaw was set so firmly against the pain.

Immediately, her anger turned on the men in front of her, swelling and bursting. "What did you do that for?"

"He broke the law. This is how we reprimand people for violating code."

"He didn't mean to violate code! It wasn't intentional! We're not even spies! I demand that you help him!"

The Doctor was beginning to sink towards the ground, and Donna tried her best to keep him upright. "Doctor, what do we do?" The men approached them with arms coming up to seize them and take them to some godforsaken prison cell.

"Please, don't!" Donna pleaded. "It's a misunderstanding! I don't know who the hell you are but you've got to help him!" They did not halt their actions. "I'll give you anything you want! I'll do anything, just please help my friend." She made eye contact with the leader, who raised a hand so the two beside him would stop their would-be assault. His stony face did not shift or even twitch.

"Anything?" he asked, intrigued.

"Yes, anything. Please." She begged. The Doctor grunted, shaking his head against her decision. He tried to warn her, but his legs gave way, and Donna went down with him, holding him securely. The searing pain in his side was troubling him beyond normal, something wasn't right about this bullet lodged in his flesh. Something was very wrong, and though it nearly made him blind with the pain, he didn't want Donna getting herself into danger.

"Then we will assist your friend's healing." The leader turned to the guards, and the trio gathered in a huddle for a few seconds. The leader emerged, and crouched before Donna and the Doctor. He held his hand out, "This is your antidote for his wound, but you must not administer it while he is on this planet. It is against code. You will drink the water, then you will go."

"That's it? You want me to drink water?" she was surprised, but once the alien nodded, she snatched up the medicine, and stuffed it into her pocket. "I'll be right back." She informed the Doctor, he was kneeling, holding on to her. "Donna, don't." he wheezed out, but she chose not to hear him.

She stepped up to the water's edge, and on her hands and knees, dipped a cupped hand into the exotic water, and gulped it down as fast as she could. It tasted bitter, but it was smooth and cool. The aliens bowed their heads, and left them alone.

"Come on, Spaceman. I'm getting you out of here." She helped him stand, though he nearly screamed in agony. With his arm around her shoulders, she supported most of his body weight and they made it to the Tardis, though it was a tricky task getting both of them through the trails. The Old Girl whirred nervously as they crossed her threshold.

"We need to get to the Vortex." Donna says aloud. The Doctor stumbles with her to the console, and as she guides him around the navigational panels, he grabs onto levers and throws a limp fist onto buttons. The Tardis jolts like a lift moving from one floor to another, and that's how Donna knows they are on their way. Without wasting any more time, she retrieves the medicine from her pocket and looks at it properly for the first time. "What the hell do I do with this?"

The Doctor is slumped on the jump seat, blood dripping onto the grating from the lower corner of his shirt. He waved a hand at her weakly, wanting to take a look for himself.

"Donna," he manages, "it's a hypo spray. You need to put it," he pauses, enduring another tense wave of pain, "everywhere I tell you. Got it?" Donna nods. "You press this button right here." He show her, passing it into her hand.

"Here." The Doctor instructs, pointing at his neck. She presses the metallic object to his neck, and as she pushes the button with her finger, a hissing noise alerts her that the medicine is injected.

"Here." The Doctor points to his chest, where he begins undoing the top buttons of his shirt.

"Are you sure?" Donna is leery. That's where his two hearts are after all, in his chest. She really doesn't want to muck this up.

The Doctor barely nods, and she repeats the process, removing the device only when the hissing finishes.

"And here." The Doctor lifts his shirt, revealing the nasty wound. He cringes when his fingers ghost over the sore and tender flesh. Blood was beginning to crust at the edges, while a steady stream of red trickled out. He points to the sensitive area just above the wound. Donna eyes him suspiciously.

"Trust me." The Doctor says, making eye contact with his best mate, telling her silently that he desperately needs her. She swallows nervously, and does as he ordered. He cannot restrain the agonized moan that follows. The bullet dissolves and fades, but the wound isn't completely healed; it will take time.

He catches his breath, and grabs onto her hand, "Sorry, Donna. That was supposed to be a fun place."

"Hush, Spaceman. You should rest." She could see his eyes fighting to stay open. He looked so frail, still slumped on the jump-seat, hardly upright at all.

"You need to go to the med-bay, Donna. The water you drank."

"Not now, Martian Boy. Let's get you taken care of first. Come on then, up you get." She spoke softly. He wanted to argue with everything in his being, but he just couldn't. She hoisted him to his feet, and he put a hand over the wounded area on his torso. She was leading him to his bedroom. "I know you better, your body is going to need a healing sleep after all that. I'll be fine, we'll be having tea in the galley before you know it." she says as they progress slowly down the hall, though her voice was beginning to give her trouble. She chalked it up to her nerves getting the better of her.

He is almost unconscious by the time she puts him in bed, tucking the duvet around him and kissing his forehead. A rogue tear manifested itself in the corner of her eye. She worried so much for him, and knew she had come close to losing him.

A few hours went by, and she thought it best to bring him something. Carrying in soup and tea, she noticed the sheets were a mess, the duvet on the floor, and the skin on his face covered in beads of sweat. She placed the tray down instantly, and rushed over to his side.

"Oh, god. That's a fever. I have no idea what to do for time lord fevers!" she worried, coughing when her throat tickled in an odd way.

"Doctor? Can you hear me?" she shook his shoulder. He was panting lightly in his sleep.

"What do I do?" she asked the Tardis hoarsely, looking up at the ceiling. "Please, help me so I can help him."

The lights twinkled, and the en-suite bathroom light turned on, and Donna could hear the water running.

"Thank you." She dragged him out of bed, and carried him in her arms. He was heavy for a skinny streak of nothing, but she managed. She sat him against the tub, taking a minute to catch her breath. When she started to speak, her voice didn't vocalize at first. She gave a hearty cough, but there was still no noise. She wouldn't worry about it now.

She lowered him into the shower, and as the cold water sprayed down on him, he began to stir.

"Donna." He says.

She tries to say, "I'm right here, Spaceman," but she can't speak for some reason. She opened her mouth but there wasn't anything coming out, not a whisper, not a sound. She pets his hair gently instead, causing his bleary eyes to open just a tad to look at her.

"What's wrong with you?" he asks, reading her face like a book. There was a light panic she couldn't restrain from residing in her eyes that most other people would surely fail to notice.

She vehemently shakes her head, raising her eyebrows a little to deny him.

"Donna," he reaches his hands to her neck from within the shower, touching her skin lightly with his fingertips. He looks so sad all of a sudden. "Oh, Donna."

She tilts her head, a way of asking him what's going on.

"Your voice Donna, they took your voice."

Her hand covers her mouth for a moment, but she is shrugging it away a second later. She would be saying 'doesn't matter' if she could. The Tardis turns off the water, and Donna turns to get a towel. Already the Doctor is looking healthier.

"I'll fix you, Donna, as soon as I'm strong enough. I don't know how but I promise, I'll get your voice back." He vows.

He stands, and she wraps the towel around him. She gives him a sad look, before going to get dry clothes for him. When she enters the bathroom again, he is retching in the toilet. She rubs his back, and when he finishes, he says dryly, "It's the after effect of the poison. That bullet was coated with kinetotrophin. The hypo spray is filtering it out, but their medicine is foreign," he tries to explain, "so my body has to learn to let it do its job alongside my normal biology's attempt to purify my system." He catches her concerned expression, "Don't worry, Donna."

While he spoke, she ran a cloth under cool water, which she now pressed against his forehead. "Thank you, I'm sorry you have to deal with this."

She lightly slapped his shoulder, shaking her head when he looks up at her, her eyebrows furrowed angrily. "Alright Donna, I won't apologize." He says with a light laugh, 'nonsense, we're best mates!' is what she would say if she could.

He dresses, Donna helping when she can. She finishes getting him situated for another healing sleep, and is turning to leave when she feels his hand around her wrist. "I know you've been through a lot, I know helping me must have worn you out, but could… oh, never mind." Donna encouragingly squeezed his hand, saying 'go on' with her touch.

He looked her in the eyes, "Do you think you could stay with me?"

She grins and nods, and holds up one finger. She leaves the room but returns in her jim-jams, and crawls in beside the Doctor. His skin is cool, and she is grateful the fever was not as much of a challenge as she initially feared.

She rests against him, like every other time they cuddled together in times of need. She drifted quickly, and as he watched her sleep, he felt himself be stabbed by a tremendous tidal wave of guilt. Right beside him his best mate slept just so he wouldn't be alone, she tended to his gruesome wound, watched him be sick, tucked him into bed, and brought him tea and soup. She took such good care of him. He couldn't have asked for a more perfect friend. She deserved so much more than having her voice confiscated, a voice he loved hearing say 'good morning, Spaceman,' the same voice that scolded him on so many necessary occasions, the voice she used to hide her feelings when she made it loud, the voice that sung him to sleep after Midnight, the voice that bantered with him and laughed with him and cried with him. He blamed himself for its absence, for her loss, for their loss. It eats at him the more he tries to sleep.

Donna wakes up in the Doctor's bed, but the Doctor isn't there. She wishes she could call out for him, and it takes a minute for her to realize she can't. After searching for him, she finds him in the lab, peering down the shaft of a microscope. She pulls him off the stool by his arm.

"What are you doing?!" he demands.

She points at him – 'you' – and back towards his room – 'bed.'

"No, Donna, I have to find a way to restore your voice."

She shakes her head, and mouths 'later.'

"But Donna," he protests in a voice that sounds drained and raspy, but she interrupts him by stomping her foot, signifying her refusal to barge an inch on the matter.

He takes a look at the tests he's running, at the machines whirring and hopefully making progress. She can see how he longs to stay, but she can also see that he hasn't got it in him, not just yet. The circles under his eyes are dark enough that one would think they were drawn there.

He is soon back in bed, so she takes the opportunity to shower and make them some food. She brings another tray into his room, only to find a vacant bed. She slams the tray down on his night table, frustration boiling from within.

This time, he is standing in the console room. Donna claps her hands once so he knows that she's there.

"I thought of something else." He says, eyes on the screen in front of him. "Come stand in front of me." He pushes himself away from the console with some effort.

Donna approaches, wondering what it is he's going to do. Whatever it is, she can bet money on him not being able enough yet to do it.

"I'm going to take a look at what they did, alright? Have a look at your vocal system from the inside." He informs her, hands poised near her temples. She nods hesitantly.

She can feel him inside her mind, a presence that is definitely him, and one that tries to calm her at the sensation of having another person inside her head. It was different this time – during the meta-crisis his brain had been put into hers, but now it was a live connection, an in-the-moment link, organic and new and oh-so complex.

He casually traces the pathways of her system, looking for a way to fix the damage. She thinks of it as connecting wires, or fixing an internet connection between a computer and a router. He laughs slightly at this thought, hearing it for himself, and laughing a little more when she finds it bizarre that he can hear her this way.

He completes the search, not finding anything helpful, because everything looked normal. He began repeating the cycle, studying the synapses more closely, but sustaining the mental link was taking a toll on him. Donna opens her eyes cautiously, and sees him beginning to struggle, lines creasing his forehead and appearing at the corners of his eyes, squinting hard in concentration. He's breathing heavily all of a sudden, and putting more weight on Donna as he loses the ability to hold himself. She tries to tell him to stop, both mentally and vocally, despite the circumstance. He does not let up, so Donna acts on impulse, and though she knows it's dangerous, she forcefully pushes him away from her, severing their connection prematurely. It stings for both of them, but he left her no choice.

As the piercing pain subsides, she explodes at him when they make eye contact. 'Dumbo!' she mouths. 'Don't you remember?' She points at him at 'you,' and at her own head at 'remember.'

'I volunteered to give this up' – she raises her hand in the air at 'volunteer,' and points to her neck at 'this.'

He looked down in guilt, so she stomped her foot again, retrieving his gaze. 'This is not your fault. I'm still here with you, that's all that matters!'

Regretting letting her anger get the best of her when he felt so miserable, she took him in an embrace, and he returned it the best he could.

Two days later, the Doctor was fully recovered. There were no remnants of either kinetotrophin or the antidote from Mykopotamia. Now, all of his attention was on healing Donna. There was a planet he wanted to go to, where there was a medical convention, the most famous of the century for its advancements and superior technology. Surely there would be something there that could help.

He goes to her bedroom to tell her where they'll be going. On her door was a whiteboard with the letters 'Meet you in the kitchen for tea' written on it in Donna's hand-writing. It was something she thought of so he would know what she was doing in there when the door was closed, since she was unable to announce, 'come in,' or 'wait a sec,' when he knocked. Before this was thought of, he'd entered her room while she was in the bathroom. He had been about to panic, calling out her name in fear, but then she knocked on the bathroom wall tiles, and he was relieved she was simply in the loo.

He was pouring the water out of a kettle when she entered the kitchen, freshly showered, dressed, and ready to go. They had their tea, and soon after he was piloting the Tardis to their destination. The Tardis made an odd racket, like gears grinding together, metal-on-metal, along with the Tardis's own shrieking. A rebel gust of wind along the vortex pushed them against its sides, and the Tardis was crashing.

Upon the brutal landing, a coral column began to crumble, and pieces plummeted straight down onto an unsuspecting Doctor. Donna shouts to warn him, forgetting for what must be the hundredth time that she can't talk, and the column falls on him, sending a cloud of peach-colored dust into the air. She rushes over, scared to death that after he finally regained his health, he'll be right back where they started, or worse.

When she reaches the pile of rubble, he emerges perfectly okay and 100% intact. He was smiling broadly until he saw her panicked face. He realized she must have been petrified.

She couldn't help it, the torment of not being able to warn or protect him in any way, feeling useless. She turned away from him and cried. He scrambled out of the debris and turned her to face him, holding her tightly in his arms as she cried into his coat, consoling her the best he could.

The convention, as it turned out, was a bust.

It was the following week when he burst into the library, startling Donna who was engrossed by a book. His hair was disheveled, his clothes were slightly torn, maybe even singed, and there were a few scratches on his face. He stood in the doorway and grinned proudly at her, before walking over to her in a contained, simple manner. Still, there was a hop to his step he couldn't suppress.

In front of Donna, he held out his hand, a glass box in the center of his palm. Inside the box, there was a small lavender pebble, not much bigger than a fruit gum. She wrinkled her face at his presentation of the object, as if to say, 'and what do you want me to do with that, Spaceman?'

"Put this on your tongue." He says.

'Not until you tell me where you've been.' She mouths. It had become their regular way of communicating – mouthing, and writing.

"Open up, Donna." He tries again, rolling his eyes a bit.

'Where were you?' she demands, and he can tell she'd sound angry, her facial features in the all-too familiar form of an aggravated Donna Noble. The Doctor sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I went to get your voice back."

She was gobsmacked for a moment before returning to her initial attitude, 'How?'

"Well you know," he begins nonchalantly, "I broke into the safe where they keep voices. They steal them, the Mykos people, as another form of punishment besides poison bullets, although these days it seems to be more like a demented hobby or twisted sport." He trailed off a little, but returned his wandering gaze to Donna. "Anyway, this belongs to you." He held out his hand again.

'That's mine?' she peers closer at the little circle in his palm.

"Yep." He pops the 'p,' of course.

She looks up at him, and he holds the lavender gem in his fingers, aiming for her mouth. The Doctor sticks his tongue out, so she knows to do the same, and when she does, he places the tiny rock on her tongue, watching as her eyes follow his fingers.

It begins to fizzle and melt, dissolving and mingling with her saliva.

The Doctor holds a cup of water to her, and she eyes it skeptically. "Drink this, it's water, nothing but good old H2O."

She does, and after swallowing she clears her throat, "So tell me Spaceman, what do you call a sleepwalking nun?"

He eyed her with amusement, "What, Donna?"

"A roamin' Catholic!" As she answered, her voice gave way to the joy overfilling her, and the two of them whooped, cheered, and hugged each other tight.

"It's so good to hear your voice again." The Doctor said, voice muffled as his chin was tucked into her neck. She tightened her grasp of him.

"Thank you for getting it back."

They parted, and Donna made another comment, "That waterfall was beautiful, though. Certainly not worth you getting shot over but still, I've never seen anything like it, and I didn't get a chance to thank you for thinking to bring me there."

"Funny you should say that, because I had time for one more thing." The Doctor waggled his eyebrows, and took her hand. They entered a room she'd not recognized, and he let go of her hand so she could explore on her own.

Donna gasped. "Wait," she stopped herself, "how's that possible?" she was looking at an identical waterfall to the one on Mykopotamia.

"Turns out the sample came in handy." The Doctor said. Donna laughed at that, of course from one little bottle he managed to construct an entire waterfall.

"Not to over-inflate your pride, Spaceman, but this is genius, and it's so beautiful."

"Yeah." He answered simply on a sigh, smirking while watching her stand at the edge and move forward and back with her gaze directed at the sky.


	10. Talking in Your Sleep

**Talking in Your Sleep**

Donna had been home in Chiswick for a few hours, called there by Sylvia because granddad was sick. He had been in hospital, but her mum didn't call until after he'd been discharged. Donna was angry to find this out, but her mum hurdled comment after comment about her always being away in the Tardis, and an argument ensued between them, and not a nice one at that.

She dials the numbers on her mobile, and is hoping he answers, yet at the same time hopes he doesn't. Leave it to her mum to make her feel like this.

"Hasn't even been a day! Miss me already?" The Doctor asks cheerfully when he picks up the phone.

"You've got no idea." Donna sighed on the other end of the line. She sat down heavily on her bed.

"What's wrong? Should I come get you? I'm floating right above you, still in the same time era and everything, just like I said." The Doctor asked.

"No… I don't know." She put a hand against her forehead.

"What happened?"

She explains the situation to him with two words, "It's mum."

'Of course,' the Doctor thinks to himself, frowning at the thought of Sylvia berating Donna for the millionth time. He was going to say something to her, when Donna wasn't around. His mind was made up.

"She didn't even tell me Gramps was in hospital! She says I've done nothing with my life, that she wishes I was more like Suzette's daughter, with a family, and a career, and money. She's embarrassed of me. You know what else she said tonight? She said if she knew I was going to waste my life like this, she'd have never had me at all." At this point, Donna broke down.

"Oh, Donna. You can't believe anything she says." He spoke smoothly. He wanted to be there with her, holding her and drying her tears. Why she ever insisted on going home alone was beyond him, but he respected her wish nonetheless.

"I know!" she replied quickly, "it's just, I thought I could stand facing her epic tirades after my time with you. I've done things, great, and important things, because I travel with you, because I've been out there among the stars and have seen so much. I thought being 'Donna: Savior of the Universe' would make it less of a challenge being around her, but it turns out nothing's changed. I'm still pathetic and useless." She whimpered over the phone, sniffling.

"No, Donna. You listen to me." The Doctor was trying not to use an enraged voice, but hearing her talk like this always made him upset and frustrated. She was so special. Hearing that she was starting to believe it herself, just so Sylvia could knock it out from under her, made him furious, but he couldn't show that now. Donna was his number one priority, always.

"You have done amazing, brilliant things that no other person could ever do. Nobody thinks the way do, or acts the way you do, or shouts the way you do. Don't get me wrong here, you're shouting has saved my Martian arse multiple times and you know it." her sniffling was subsiding the more she listened to him.

"I've met a lot of people, I've traveled for a long time, but no one, and I mean no one, has done the kinds of things you've done. You're one of a kind Donna, in all the best ways. Of course you can let your mum's bitter comments roll off your shoulders, you're not weak, you're not a failure, and you're not an embarrassment. You're so much more than what she could have ever hoped for in you, she just doesn't see it as clearly as me and you."

Donna sniffled one final time.

"Better?" the Doctor asked.

"Yeah, thanks." she blew her noise into a tissue, "That was just what I needed to hear." She still sounded sad over the phone, but at least she wasn't in tears. "So what are you up to Spaceman?"

"Oh…" the Doctor looked around the deserted console room, "just tinkering, you know." He missed her terribly.

"Tell me about it, will you?" she asks honestly.

He rambles on about wibbly-wobbly thingamajigs and timey-wimey whatchamacallits, about all the bits 'n bobs that needed tending to.

"Donna?" he asks gently, but there's no reply. She'd fallen asleep. He smirks, and knows the old him would be offended, because he was the Doctor, and everything he said was important, but this was a new him, and this was Donna, and everything she did made his hearts beat a happy samba. He keeps the phone to his ear, listening to her breathing. He makes tea, he tinkers, he wanders the halls, sits on her bed, all with the phone pressed against his ear. She murmurs in the middle of the night, "that silly Martian. Space brains. What would I do without him… never had a friend like him before, be with him forever…"

He smiles, "Sweet dreams, Donna."

Hours later, she wakes up. Seeing the phone on her pillow, she picks it up and holds it to her face for a closer look. Noticing the call that's been proceeding for 9 hours and forty-two minutes, she cautiously holds it up to her ear.

"Donna?" the voice on the other end asks, and it frightens her.

"Spaceman! You scared the bejesus out of me! Were you on the line all night?" she asked incredulously.

"Well... yes. Is that bad? I liked listening to you sleep, I didn't really want to hang up." He answered truthfully.

"You're a few cards short of a deck, Doctor, even for an alien. Tell me one thing, though." She waits for him to acknowledge her.

"What's that?"

"Do I snore?"

The Doctor chuckles. "No Donna, you don't snore. Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, sorry I ruined your night."

"I wouldn't have dreamed of doing anything different than being there when you needed me. Go take care of Gramps and later we'll go to lunch. Steady on, Earthgirl."

"Steady on." She replied with a smile.

* * *

 _Just giving you a heads-up: Updates may become scarce (not all together to a halt) because of school. I can feel the flames of my coursework angrily licking at my heels even as I take the time to post this, so just have patience; I will update as frequently as I can, it just may not be all that, you know, frequent... sorry!_


	11. Spaceman and Earthgirl

**Spaceman and Earthgirl**

She read from the brightly illustrated page, her finger sliding delicately down toward the corner in preparation for turning over the smooth paper.

"He used his sonic screwdriver, and was puzzled when he found it wouldn't work. He shook it a few times, hoping it would light up and buzz like always." The four-year old girl that was nestled between the book and Donna's chest giggled at the picture in front of her eyes – a very puzzled looking man with unruly, spiky brown hair, studying his trusty device and scratching his head. The tiny girl, named Madeline, mused in her head how much this character resembled her daddy.

Donna reclined on pillows and stuffed animals, while Madeline reclined against Donna's entire front, a book taking up the young girl's entire field of vision with the magnificent way her mother held it. Donna continued to read, disguising her voice the way she always did at bedtime, making it much more enthused and excited, "You need this, Spaceman! You need the diamond pendant!"

The picture on the next page showed a brilliant beam of light shooting out from the tip of the screwdriver, and the monstrous aliens cowering in terror and defeat. Madeline said aloud, "She looks like you, mummy, but I like you better."

"Why's that, Maddy?" Donna queried.

"Because," Madeline giggled, "you give the bestest hugs, and you make the bestest hot chocolate."

"Thank you, sweetie pie." Donna kissed the top of Maddy's head of ginger hair, before returning to the story she could almost read by heart.

Donna spoke in a deeper tone as her eyes skimmed over the words, "Thanks, Earthgirl. Without you, this entire planet would have fallen victim to these cosmic criminals." She returned to her usual reading voice, "Earthgirl smiled, and she and Spaceman high-fived in celebration. They always made such a great team. The inhabitants of planet Zorge threw a giant party, and honored Spaceman and Earthgirl as their special guests. When Spaceman and Earthgirl left the planet on their ship - the ship they called home - cheers were heard roaring from below," at this point, Donna let out an elongated gush of air from her throat to mimic what the applause would sound like, "and Spaceman set the navigational controls to lead them to their next adventure." Donna closed the book, looking down at her little girl.

"Again, mummy, again!" Madeline cheered, turning around so she was facing her mum, nearly nose to nose with her.

"Then what will we read at nap time tomorrow, you silly thing." Donna rubbed her nose against Madeline's. "Come on, you. Time for little time tots to get some shut-eye." Donna stood up and began tucking in her tiny twin.

"Aw, but mum!" Madeline moaned with a yawn, already fighting to stay awake.

"I'll see you at breakfast. Daddy will be in to wake you." She pressed a kiss to her forehead, brushing a strand of wispy ginger hair behind her daughter's ear. "Goodnight, Maddy. Sleep tight." She walked to the door, flipped the light switch, and pulled the door closed halfway, casting the book on the bedside table in a dark shadow, the block letters on the cover reading 'The Adventures of Spaceman and Earthgirl' in blue color sitting quietly in the night.

The Doctor was turning down the bed-covers when Donna finally reached their room. She was in her jim-jams of course, and though he wouldn't be sleeping (time lord, and all), he wore a comfy pair of pinstriped pajamas in bed with her.

She snuggled into his embrace when he lifted the duvet, inviting her in. "You know, making that book was the best thing we could have done for her birthday. It's the only thing she ever wants read to her." Donna said.

The Doctor grinned, rubbing her arm as his coiled around her shoulders, "One of a kind, that book."

"Just like Maddy. And you." She grinned, and patted his chest.

The Doctor turned his face to hers, and pecked a kiss on her lips.

"What's that for?" she wondered, unable to hide her smile.

"Because, you're one of a kind too, Earthgirl."

"Aw," she sighed and smiled happily, "thank you, Spaceman."

* * *

 _If you don't like the name Madeline or Maddy, pretend it's whatever name you want it to be (but feel free to let me in on whatever you may be thinking, I can't help but be curious)._


	12. The Second Sonic

_This one has a little bonus ending. I thought of it as an aside and wanted to impart upon you the bit of cuteness/friendly tenderness it contains. For the first section, you may choose to ship them or not ship them, but in the second feature, I definitely shipped them in my mind when writing it out._

* * *

 **The Second Sonic**

He looks at the gigantic mess he's made, standing in the middle of the console room with his hands on his hips, a disgruntled expression scrunching up his facial features.

He can't find it, it's nowhere. His eyes roam over the items scattered on the floor, everything from his pockets and the under-the-grating storage bins and boxes out for a jumbled display. With an agitated huff, he stomps over to the monitor and takes it aggressively in his hands, running a scan.

A little blip informs him that what he's looking for should be right where he's standing. " _What_?" his eyes narrow. Unsatisfied, he zooms in on the blinking dot, and the enlarged image reveals his head.

'Of course!' he thinks, 'I can make a new one!'

He has come to the conclusion that the Tardis, in showing him a digital image of his head, meant to remind him that the idea for the device's creation dwelled in his brain, and therefore such knowledge within his Time Lord cranium could be used to simply construct an identical model. He scoffed at himself, how could he be so foolish? He should have thought of this much sooner. The Tardis on the other hand, groaned, and if she had compatible parts, would be face-palming.

The Doctor ignored the creaking coming from his ship, and set about fiddling with mechanical bits and bobs, putting them together quite haphazardly, when finally just a few short minutes later, he shouts 'Eureka!'

His outburst drew Donna to the room, while she had been headed for the library, magazine and hot chocolate in hand. The Tardis sent a greeting through Donna's mind, one of immense relief.

Donna's eyes ran zig-zags over the piles of his things littering what she assumed the Tardis console room would look like after a hurricane had been through it. "Uh… Spaceman?"

He spun around from his place on the floor, where he sat cross-legged. "Yes?"

"What in Gallifrey's name are you doing?"

"Well…" he idly scratched the back of his neck, "I sort of… well… misplaced my sonic."

Donna's eyes rose in surprise.

"Not to worry! Made a new one right here." He beamed, holding up his discombobulated gadget with pride.

"Does it work?" Donna asked skeptically, taking a sip of the rich beverage, perfectly warm and smooth.

"Honestly, all I can get it to do so far is… twinkle."

She nearly spit up the hot chocolate. " _Twinkle?_ " She let out a roaring laugh.

His face fell as he watched her struggle to contain her fit of giggles. "Come on Donna, it's a start." he looked dubiously at his own creation.

"I don't see how a _twinkle_ will save our bums in the future." She watched him sit there, not really knowing what to do with himself, "So I guess it's a good thing your sonic is behind your ear, eh?" Donna spoke, a tiny smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth as she went for another well-deserved sip.

She laughed softly at his gobsmacked face, and went towards the library now, calling to him from the hall, "Have fun cleaning up that mess, Martian Boy!"

The Doctor tilted his head up towards the ceiling, able to hear the faint snickering, clicking noises the Tardis tried to suppress.

~Fast forward to Christmas time~

The Doctor and Donna stood in front of the tree in her mum's dimly-lit living room in Chiswick. It was Christmas Eve, and Donna had promised Gramps to come home before Christmas. Being there with the Doctor elated her granddad, and not even Sylvia seemed to mind that much. The time travelling duo had been elected to finish up the decorations, and after switching around several ornaments, and starting over at least four times, arguing over what looked best and what would be left in the box, the fragrant fir tree finally looked perfect.

"Oh, I almost forgot." The Doctor said suddenly, cutting over the sound of the Christmas station coming through the radio. He retrieved something from his pocket, and gently hung it from one of the branches. He centered it like a bow-tie on a fellow's neck, and stood back to let Donna judge his contribution.

She squinted her eyes at the object, clearly not recognizing it.

The Doctor reached for a button on the wand-like item, and it began to emit a soft light.

"Is that…?"

The Doctor smiled and answered happily, "Mhm."

"Twinkle!" she declared with astonishment; after all, she assumed he'd binned it.

The Doctor took her hand and sat her down next to him on the sofa. He leaned forward to take up the two glass mugs of Sylvia's delightful eggnog, proffering one to Donna. They clinked their mugs together, offering silent greetings of cheers, and each taking a sip. They both reclined back on the cushions to cuddle, the Doctor putting his arm around Donna, and Donna snuggling in close to the Doctor's side. Donna sighed, gazing contentedly at the tree while the Christmas music continued to play in the background.

"That's the best looking Christmas tree I've ever seen. Well done, Doctor."

The Doctor smiled too, squeezing Donna a little tighter.

* * *

 _Bit early for Christmas but I couldn't help it!_


	13. Embrace

**Embrace**

She felt so down, and she didn't know why. There was nothing wrong, yet something in her chest made her want to weep for all eternity, to express the sadness and despair that gripped her from the moment she got out of bed this morning. She felt like she contained every shade of grey within herself, like all the world's melancholy, from everyone for every reason, settled on her heart and made it constrict against its will.

Maybe it was something she dreamt about the night before that she couldn't remember. Maybe it was something inside, something from the last planet they visited. It happened from time to time, a bit of leftover emotion from their latest tumultuous adventure seizing them just when they settled down.

She found him in the kitchen, pouring a stream of batter into a hot buttered pan. The liquid circle fizzled as it was seared into a thick and fluffy pancake. He poured three more in the same pan, and licked a spot of raw mix off his finger before he noticed her presence in the doorway.

His ginger companion's distant, frowned face concerned him as she stared at the bubbles forming at the edges.

He flipped the pancakes in a rush, then turned off the heat, approaching her immediately.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, ditching his apron over the back of a chair.

She shrugged, not meeting his eyes, "Dunno."

He paused for a moment before taking action. His button-down shirt-clad chest crowded her vision, as it was suddenly pressing towards her as his arms enveloped her body. Her cheek fell instinctively against his shoulder, like it belonged there, as if his shoulder was for her cheek and hers alone. Suddenly her worries were fading. With each breath of him she inhaled, the heavy weight at her core melted.

Donna's arms came up to wrap around his back, and he squeezed her ever so tightly. She was sure he would have stayed like that for hours on end if that's what she needed. He was so kind to her, and he was such a deeply caring man that it made her heart swell to think that part of what he cared about was her.

She pulled away and met his tender face, a grin tugging the corners of his mouth, those dimpled corners pointing up to two chestnut brown eyes, both sparkling. "Help me slice bananas?"

"Sure thing. I know if I don't, half of them won't make it to the table."

The Doctor was relieved to see his best mate grinning at him. "You know me so well." He smiled broadly and tossed her a banana, which she caught deftly.

As she sliced the fruit into little yellow discs, she tried to embed the feeling of his comforting hug in her memory, because such things as that were rare to her. No man in her entire life had the ability to ease her troubles with nothing more than a hug. Bless that Spaceman, she thought.

Noticing him from the corner of her eyes, she quickly swatted at him for shoving a banana quarter into his mouth. He flinched and turned to her. She looked over at him, his cheeks stuffed with half-chewed banana, and he tried with all his Time Lord might not to smile, but she tried not to smile back at him, and they both burst. He swallowed most of it, and she offered him a napkin for the bits that couldn't be contained.

They made such a great team, always.

* * *

 _I feel a wave of whump coming on..._


	14. Tragedy

_This is not the whump I had in mind when I made the note at the end of the previous chapter, this is just something that popped into my head. Nevertheless, enjoy!_

 **Tragedy**

Jack gripped her cool hand tightly, trying to rouse her from the slumber that threatened to sweep her away forever.

"Please Donna, you've got to hang in there."

She winced, and turned her head that rested on his lap to the side, eyes still firmly closed. She swallowed weakly.

There was nothing they could do to change what took place.

"You hear me? Please. He'll never forgive himself." Jack added.

Donna took a quivering breath, fighting the pull to let go as best she could. Another breath, and she whimpered as the action caused tremendous pain to seize her body.

It was an accident, a terrible accident. It was nobody's fault.

Jack wiped a spot of crimson blood from the corner of her mouth, and dabbed at the wound on his own head. He looked around frantically. Where was the Doctor? He needed to get here with the sonic as soon as possible. Jack wanted Donna to hang in there not for the Doctor's sake alone, but because Donna was such a breath of fresh air. They had grown so close over the past few weeks – he had never had a friend like her who he could joke with and be a team with, and be honest and open with. He found he could rely on her like no one else he knew. No wonder the Doctor cared for her as much as he did. Donna was an amazing person, she was special. To see her like this - crumpled, injured, weak, and fading with every breath she wheezed - crushed his heart a little bit more with each passing moment.

He could do nothing to reverse the events, what was done was done. That's all there was to it.

"Stay with me, Donna. Don't leave us." He patted her hair tenderly. "You got that? Don't go. You can't. Please don't go." He was begging her shamelessly.

He wondered why this had to happen to them, to her, of all people in all the universe.

Donna's breathing grew more and more shallow, the wheezing softer and softer. "Donna, no! Don't you dare." Jack warned, but as her eyes opened, he could see the light fading from them.

He put his finger on the pulse point at her neck, but the beat was so faint he couldn't feel its rhythm. He looked around again for any sign of the Doctor. When he returned his eyes to Donna, her body was completely still, her face held no expression of pain, and her pupils were larger than normal.

It was over.

Jack wept silently, sliding her eyes shut and gathering her in his arms. There would never be another like Donna Noble.

Something clattered to the ground beside him. The Doctor's sonic.

He looked up at the frozen man in his tan trench coat, hands trembling. "You're too late, Doctor. She's gone." Jack looked back down at his ginger friend, "She's gone."


	15. Adopt a Domestic: Part 1

_This has Donna whump (is that a thing?) but I promise, the Doctor whump is coming._

 **Adopt a Domestic**

There was a rectangular metal table in the middle of the room, and Donna imagined how cold it must be, knowing with a sinking feeling that she would soon be on it. It was the first thing her widened eyes fell upon as they dragged her through the doors by her arms, and not the least bit gently. There were three of them holding onto her: two at her arms, and another at her neck, where the stiff leather collar was fastened. The third alien held onto the collar at the end of the long pole it was attached to, like the ones used by animal control officers on stray dogs and cats. It was terribly uncomfortable, and she was sure by now that her neck was red, but as she was pulled toward the table by it, her only fear was what was going to happen next, in a room filled with medical equipment, no windows, and sterile shiny surfaces glinting in the luminescent industrial lighting.

They forced her down on the table, and more aliens appeared, she didn't even know where from. There was a clicking sound behind her, and she realized as it was being lifted over her face that the alien with the pole had unclasped the collar. He was leaving. Why was he leaving? What was happening?

She was right, the table was cold, so cold it took no time at all for the icy temperature to penetrate through the thin layer of her blouse, making her gasp when her arms were held down onto it. Whether she was shivering from the cold or from her own nerves, she couldn't tell, but it was probably a fair combination of both.

"Please, I don't know what you want." She spoke with a trembling voice, eyes beginning to brim with rogue tears, "It's a misunderstanding, you have to listen." She would have pleaded with them for as long as she had breath, but they secured a muzzle over her mouth and chin, and she could no longer form words.

They were performing some kind of scan on her, the doctors in lab coats staring intently at a screen while a wand was waved over her whole body.

One of them loomed over her face, with a disgruntled expression, "Where's your microchip?"

Donna moaned to them, and the one who asked her the question let out an aggravated huff.

"Hold her steady." He said. "It's got to be here somewhere." He mused to himself. Hands tightened on her, and she watched someone approach from behind the man with the scanner.

Donna whined as she noticed a needle in his hand, watching as it was passed to the doctor standing nearest to her. That's when she really started crying, shouting from beneath the muzzle, begging not to be injected with whatever chemical they were bringing closer and closer to her.

There was nothing she could do – her skin was pierced by the sharp point of the needle and the burning liquid raced through her veins. She could feel it, such an undeniable heat running up her arm, to her chest, up her neck, in her belly, all the way down to her toes. She clenched her eyes shut, keening softly.

They removed the contraption from her face. She whimpered one final time, "Please, don't hurt me."

Everything she could see looked hazy, as if she were wearing a pair of glasses with foggy lenses. A numbness slithered throughout her entire body, and her head listed to one side despite trying to look the opposite way. Her breathing evened out, even though her fears and panic refused to subside. Her heart was pounding in her chest so hard she could feel it in her ears.

She thought she saw a glint of silver, but because she couldn't lift her head, there was no way of knowing for sure what she saw. She wondered where the Doctor was. She couldn't talk anymore, she could barely keep her eyes open from the drugs. There was a dull sensation on her stomach, sort of to the right, sort of near her hip.

Someone spoke, and though their voice sounded like it was under water, it sounded shocked and surprised. Orders were being shouted, and one of the assistants came beside Donna with a fresh towel. Her stomach throbbed. She could just make out a few sentences of their discourse. It was near impossible to decipher words from what sounded like babble to Donna.

"What is that?"

"I don't know! I've never seen this before!"

"Why is it red? Humans don't have red blood. Not for hundreds of years now!"

"Forget the history lesson. Clyde, take this."

The towel was carried away, and Donna was mortified to see it stained with a large splotch of blood… her blood.

They'd cut into her! It should have been painful, she should have felt it, whatever they did to her should have made her fly off the table, but the drugs had muted the sensation – she was almost thankful. She was concerned certainly, for she couldn't tell how badly they dug into her flesh, what they might have damaged on the inside, or why it was so important they find a 'microchip' in the first place. And the business about human blood not being red, what was that about?

They rushed over with more towels, and more drugs. Donna cried louder, she was so very scared. She wanted the Doctor so desperately right now, lying petrified on a stone-cold table; she didn't know what was going to happen to her, or if she would ever see the Doctor again. He didn't even know where she was taken, did he?

As she floated away from consciousness, her thoughts focused on one thing: The Doctor, her best mate.

Earlier that day:

"So why are we here again?" Donna asked over the Doctor's shoulder as she trailed close behind him down a narrow alley, heading away from the Tardis.

"This planet puts Shan Shen to shame, Donna. This market is the largest in this galaxy, and the people are truly delightful." Once they came to the end of the alley, the view opened up to reveal a frenzy of activity: people wandering about, voices shouting the best deals of the day, fireworks exploding overhead (even though it was day time), people dressed in elaborate costumes of things Donna didn't recognize, the smell of delicious food being cooked nearby - it was exciting!

There were lots of stands set up, which made sense, as there usually were stands and booths at a market. The Doctor suddenly looked confused. He licked his finger and held it in the air. "Hang on, something's not right." He licked his other finger, and stood with both hands up, two fingers vertically pointing upwards. Donna scoffed at the image of him.

"Ridiculous, you are. Downright barmy." Donna sighed, shaking her head.

"Right time. Right place. Yet not right at all." The Doctor said to himself, ignoring Donna's comments. He was rather dumbfounded, and certainly worried.

"It never is…" Donna mused, looking at a stand of scarves that she thought she might peruse if they had the chance.

The Doctor sauntered away in a flash, his coat billowing behind him as he approached one stand in particular. The banner above the booth read, "Adopt a Domestic Today! 50% Off, All Creatures Must Go!"

There were cages and tanks of all sizes and shapes lining the perimeter of the stand. Quite a crowd gathered around the edges of the tables, peering at the various items on display. A purchase was being made by a couple of aliens, and they, along with their product of choice, were led discreetly into the tent behind the booth to supposedly finalize the transaction. It seemed normal though, there was nothing alarming going on – the people with their selected creature seemed happy, and the tiny animal in the cage seemed indifferent to being chosen.

Recognizing some of the species, the Doctor scratched his chin. "These aren't supposed to be here."

"What do you mean?" Donna questioned, squinting at the seahorse-looking specimen in the cylindrical glass tank.

Before he even answered her, his eyes were drawn to a large cage, metal bars confining the huddled form within. "No." The Doctor said breathlessly. "Tell me I'm wrong." The Doctor said to himself as he retrieved his sonic screwdriver. He scanned the being, who did not stir, even as the device whirred nearby.

The Doctor looked stricken at the results, which alarmed Donna. She could see the dread in his eyes as he swallowed thickly. It passed quickly, for he was soon springing to action and grabbing her hand.

"We have to go now." He was racing as fast as he could through the crowds of people, which really meant they weren't going fast at all. They shoved their way through bodies, Donna not understanding what happened. She snatched her hand away, and the Doctor spun around madly.

"Donna! Don't do that, not here. We need to leave!"

"Not until you tell me what's going on!" She had that stubborn Donna Noble look on her face and he knew they wouldn't take any steps further until she was satisfied.

The Doctor stepped towards her, and leaned in towards her ear, whispering, "That creature I scanned… Donna, I'm so sorry, but it was a human being."

Chills ran up and down her spine. The image of the body curled up as small as can be, barely moving when she looked on it, filled her mind, along with the overwhelming urge to rescue it, one of her own kind.

"But we can't leave! We should do something."

"We are, trust me, but we have to get back to the Tardis first."

Donna nodded, and they resumed their departure from the busy commotion.

Back at the Tardis, the Doctor researches the time period and the people of this planet. He runs a hand through his hair, a frustrated look on his face.

"Have you gotten anywhere?" Donna asks, handing him a cuppa. She was a firm believer in tea.

He takes a sip, eyes glued to the screen attached to the console.

"It's not making any sense." He mumbles.

"What's not?"

He doesn't speak, so Donna places a hand on his arm, drawing him from his thoughts.

"The caste system, it's out of order. The Sozee are the people who live here, and their social stratification system that has existed for thousands of years is wrong, it's all sorts of wrong and perverse. I don't understand how something so ancient could be taken this far away from what it supposedly stands for."

He took another sip, the warmth of the tea soothing him slightly. "They were extremely similar to humans on Earth – low class, middle class, and upper class, but now… that gap is wider than the distance between the Earth and the sun, which is, by the way, 92.96 million miles."

Donna wasn't entirely sure what he was talking about, but she knew they would have to make it right. "What do we do?"

"We have to go back out there, take a closer look, probably try and talk to whoever is in charge of the domestic operations."

Donna downs the rest of her tea, "Alright, let's go then. Another planet to save." She grins, and the Doctor smiles widely back at her.

"That's my Donna." He praises, but then a serious expression takes over his features, "Listen, I don't know what's going to happen out there when we start asking questions. You have to stay close to me."

"Don't I always?" she retorted with a smirk.

Back on the streets, they look more closely at the people. That's when Donna sees it, what is so horrifyingly out of place. In the shadows. Under the booths. Peeking out from behind curtains. Walking on their knees with a leash around their neck. Crawling on their hands and knees like dogs. Cowering beneath the stands. Some were tethered to chains, severely limited by how far they could wander.

"Perception filter?" Donna asks.

"Indeed. That would be the reason we didn't notice this before. But perception filters, that sort of technology shouldn't be here either."

The domestics wore identical clothing – plain grey attire. Some carried baskets, bags, wheeled carts, like they were doing chores. None of them spoke. None of them smiled.

The Doctor gripped her hand, disturbing her observations. "This way." He says, and they are soon back at the same tent. Donna wants terribly to go over and comfort the human in the cage, but after just a few moments, the Doctor picks up a tank with a small lizard inside, and tells the woman behind the booth that he would like to purchase the domestic.

They are both lead through the tent, just like the couple they had seen on their first walk-through. It's clearly a black market trade, and Donna gets the chills as the Doctor begins asking questions.

"Who is in charge of this business you have here?" the Doctor asks casually.

"Why do you ask?" the woman is immediately suspicious.

"Oh no, don't get the wrong idea," the Doctor flashes a grin, and sends his voice a notch higher, trying to dissuade her uneasiness, "I'm just a curious shopper, that's all. Might run a stand like this myself one day. So, who runs it?"

"Just a man." She replied in her raspy voice.

"Does the man have a name?"

"No."

Donna narrowed her eyes, "A man with no name?" she looked at the Doctor, totally perplexed.

"You ask too many questions, take domestic and leave." The woman said, obviously her patience had depleted.

"I'm sorry, really, but Donna's right. I just don't understand how a man can run an operation like this without a name." the Doctor pressed. The woman was having none of it. She was ushering them out forcefully from behind.

"He is our master. That is all I know. You are not welcome at this stand. Shop elsewhere." The tent billowed closed, shielding the woman inside.

They emerge back out into the crowd. The Doctor began fetching the lizard from the tank, and Donna only worried for a moment as he let it free inside his pocket. Something catches both their attention as they begin to view the area. One man roughly grabbed a woman by her chain, blaming her for bumping into him. He scolded her for nudging him, and for dropping a piece of fruit. He yelled at her, and the frail woman shrank in fear, cringing each time his arm flailed in exaggeration.

"Oi! Red face!" Donna shouts as she steps over to him. He's a large burly man, she realizes, as she comes up to him. "That's no way to treat a lady. If you were any sort of man to be proud of, you'd have apologized and picked up what she dropped. You should be ashamed." Donna sneered, disgusted with the man who just stared at her. The Doctor approached carefully.

The foul-tempered man demands to know where her collar is. "What have you done to get it off? Where did you get those clothes? Eh? You rebel filth." He jeers, squaring his shoulders. Donna backs away slightly.

The Doctor's hand is on her shoulder, drawing the man's attention. "So it's the two of you together then? Two rebels." He takes a moment to ponder this, running his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip, before his hands come up to his mouth, cupping around it so his voice booms louder through the crowd, "We got runaways! Runaways in the South Corner! Runaways! Runaways!"

"Run!" the Doctor yells, and both he and Donna, hand-in-hand, begin to bolt through the crowd. It was difficult the first time, but it was nearly ten times as difficult now, because people were flummoxed and alarmed by what the man had shouted (and was still shouting).

"Doctor, wait!" Donna hollered out, but she was doubtful of him having heard her. It was outrageously noisy. Someone leaned against their linked hands and broke the connection. The Doctor spun around as best he could with bodies pressed close against him, and though Donna tried, the crowd was pulling her away from the direction the Doctor was. It was like being trapped in a violent riptide.

"Donna!" the Doctor screamed in horror, he couldn't even see her. No flash of vibrant red hair, no sign of the blue blouse she wore.

"Doctor!" he heard his name, he heard her voice.

"Donna! Where are you?" the Doctor ignored the fear prickling at the back of his neck. "Can you hear me? Donna!"

"Doctor, help!" she hollered, but he had no idea from which direction she was calling. "Let go! Doctor!"

He shouted her name several times, but she never made another sound.

One hour later:

He was sitting in the pound. A place for all unwanted domestics. A kind young lady told the Doctor that she saw his friend with red hair being tossed into a cart that hauled away loose domestics, and this was the place they brought them.

He was sitting because he had already talked with reception five times. He was sitting because if he talked with them for a sixth time, they would force him to leave the building, and he couldn't let that happen, not if they had Donna.

He has counted each spec on the ceiling by the time he hears, "Sir?" called in his direction. The lady behind the glass is eyeing him oddly. He is on his feet in a moment, and hurries to the desk.

"You need to prove the domestic belongs to you. We're not a kennel, we don't just release them to their owners at the end of the day." The woman spoke sourly. He was her worst customer of the day, of the week even. Never had she been so pestered by a person. People never cared this much for their domestics.

"What proof do I need?"

She explained that there was required ownership paperwork, a badge, and something called a chip-key. He said he had none of that, and after three and a half hours of heated discussion, mixed with painful periods of waiting for a higher figure of authority, he was finally taken back to where they kept the domestics.

It reeked of cleaning fluids, and a sense of fear radiated off the unstained walls as he passed them. The same lady from behind the desk held a door open for the Doctor as she glanced down at the clipboard in her arm, "Your domestic is in the third cage on the right. The door is unlocked, just take her and you're free to go, though I do suggest you get her microchipped so this doesn't happen again, for both your sakes."

He rushes past her and comes to the third cage. It's her, she's sitting at the back of the cage with her back to him. "Donna?"

She turns her head slightly, as if she's listening. He worries that she could be mad at him for letting her get lost. He notices the cold temperature of the cells, and thinks that they are kept this cold to keep the 'domestics' from getting rowdy. She must be freezing.

"Donna, it's me." He opens the door with a creak and enters the cage. His approach causes her to stir with more energy, and she turns herself around.

"Doctor?" she asks, in a voice that's just above a whisper. He notices the red ring around her throat, raw and lightly bleeding.

"The one and only." He tries to lighten the mood, but even he knows his attempt fell flat – he was too concerned for her. He shrugged his coat off and wrapped it around her, and coiled his arms around her, too, holding her close, trying to donate his body warmth entirely to her. Her skin was paler than normal, and much too cold for a human.

She lets out a breath, enjoying the warmth his jacket lent. "They tried to find my microchip."

"They what?" he looked down at her. Her cheek was pressed against his chest, like someone who listens for a heartbeat. He was warm, she was craving heat and, he reasoned, comfort from a friend.

She was trembling. "They thought I had one. They didn't listen. They tried to find it," her teeth were chattering lightly. She didn't look well.

"Where, Donna. Show me where."

She looks down at her stomach. She doesn't want to lift her shirt, she doesn't want him to be upset. He harbored enough guilt for things that weren't his fault. She didn't want to add to it.

She didn't have to. He pulled her blouse up gently and cautiously on his own, revealing the lemon-sized gash on her abdomen now crusted in dried blood, streaks glistening because of her recent movement. She can feel him tense in anger, the muscles in his arms tightening, and his chest straining to contain everything whirling inside him.

"I'm sorry." She whispers weakly. His anger melts into sad astonishment.

"There's nothing for you to apologize for. This is my-"

"No!" Donna interrupts him abruptly, and does so with fervor that caused her to wince. She sways a little, but the Doctor steadies her. "Please don't. It's not, so please don't say it," she pleads with him with her eyes, and he nods. He can't bear to deny her now.

She begs him to get her out of there, holding her hand down over the wound. She can't feel it because the drugs were still in her system, but the pain was slowly leaking back into her, and it was aching more and more as the minutes passed.

She knows they will go back in time to reconcile whatever went wrong in their caste system, but for now, she just wants to be somewhere safe with the Doctor, she wants to go home, to the Tardis. He picks her up, and she passes out instantly.

 _To be continued…_


	16. Adopt a Domestic: Part 2

_I don't know if I really need to do this, but let this serve as a warning for the very slight foul language in this chapter._

 **Adopt a Domestic**

~Part 2~

"Donna?"

He lays her back down on the ground in a rush when he realizes she is unconscious, worried beyond words he may have to perform cardiopulmonary resuscitation on his very best mate. He couldn't lose her now…

Immediately, he checks for a pulse.

He hangs his head low and lets out a breath of relief as he feels the slight pounding beneath his fingertips. Lifting her up again, he begins making progress for the Tardis.

He mentally thanks the Old Girl as she swings her doors open for him. In his mind, he car hear her a low, cautious melody denoting her concern and confusion. The Doctor tries to quell her by sending mental waves of reassurance to the ship that he will fix 'their Donna', as they frequently called her in their telepathic discourse.

In the med-bay, he gathers all his necessary supplies, and starts tending to the wound on Donna's stomach. It was an ugly site, dark crimson set in stark contrast against the natural paleness of her creamy-white skin. His mouth was set in a firm line as he concentrated on his task.

Suddenly she winces, sucking in breath from between clenched teeth. It surprises him, as he hadn't realized she was beginning to stir.

"Easy there, Donna."

Her replying groan sounds fearful and dazed, so he speaks in soothing tones. "Don't worry, you just passed out. You're safe on the Tardis. I'm going to take care of you." He presses his palm against her cheek and stares a little too long into her eyes. He shakes himself back to his senses, and resumes his ministrations, trying to ignore the same look she gave back to him.

"I fainted?" she asked, her voice soft.

"Yep." He popped the 'p,' as usual.

"Did I miss anything?" she ended the question on another wince and a grimace.

"Not a thing, I promise. Not to be rude Donna, but please, lay still and relax so I can finish." He gently ordered. "You're still bleeding a little."

"Sorry." She whispered, averting her gaze.

"You don't have to be sorry, I just want to make sure you're alright, and I get this wound healed. Can't have you being anything less than yourself, now can we?" he smirked, quirking an eyebrow.

"No, not if we're going to go back and save those people… which we are going to do, aren't we, Doctor?" she asked in a tone that expressed fear of not returning to do the good they had previously agreed upon.

"I said we would, didn't I?" he smiled, and she grinned. Her doubts melted away, and she finally relaxed.

A few minutes of silence passed as the Doctor worked, dabbing the gash with appropriate disinfectants, applying pressure, wiping away the crusted, dried blood, making the few necessary stitches, and apologizing whenever she expressed discomfort, though she tried her best to conceal it.

He finished taking care of her abdominal wound, and gingerly patted at the redness around her throat. The flesh was sensitive to the touch, the rawness of it from the collar making the Doctor angry, though he dared not express it while treating her neck. Every time she flinched made him swear ten times more upon Gallifrey that he would destroy the one responsible for the domestic trade.

"Hang in there, almost finished." The Doctor said, attention on her neck as he made sure to treat the area sufficiently.

"There. All done." The Doctor announced, sitting straight in his wheeled chair. Donna tried to lean forward to see what he had done to her torso, but his hand was pressing on her shoulder.

"Not so fast!"

"I'm fine! You've patched me up, now let's get a move on and save the human race, Time Boy." She commanded, struggling against him.

"If you move now, all my fine work will be for nothing!" he countered, setting the trap.

" _Fine work_! Well pardon me!" Donna said on an exaggerated huff, taking the bait in a raised tone that signified her simultaneous offense and amusement. The theatric huff had truthfully hurt, but she didn't let it show. She was regretting all the winces from earlier, worrying how they would be playing over and over again in the Doctor's guilt-tormented mind.

Trying to disguise his smirk at her comment, he rolled over to the counter on his wheeled chair, and retrieved a tiny object. "Take this," he proffered a tiny white pill no bigger than a pea, after he rolled back over to her with a flourish.

"What is it?" she asked, eyeing it, not suspiciously, because she trusted the Doctor, she just wanted to get a look at it, but couldn't, given her immobility.

"Something I made a few weeks ago." He began to explain, presenting the tablet in his palm as he unveiled its history, "I created it myself, just haven't got a name for it yet. Its medicinal value derives from my own DNA, those brilliant Time Lord cells that promote healing and restore health. You'll feel amazing after you take this and have a little kip."

"Your DNA?" she asked, now suspicious.

His eyebrows furrowed at her tone. "You will not turn into a mutant, I guarantee it. After the cells do their job, they die, poor little soldiers, we'll have to have a ceremony," he feigns sincere grief, "and you are left with your old self again, perfectly normal, healed, and rejuvenated." His tone brightens, "Donna Noble: 100%." He finished with a jerk of the head and a pearly-white smile.

She gazed curiously at the tiny dot in his palm. As she pondered it, he continued his explanation.

"I figured, you've had about as many bumps and bruises as I've gotten since we've been traveling together, so I invented this little baby to give you the boost you lack since you're human and not a supreme alien like myself." He said proudly.

"Supreme git is more like it." she muttered. "Doctor, I don't-" Donna started, but he interrupted with more chatter.

"Seriously! This teeny-weeny gem will heal you quicker than you can say Camelopardalis."

"Camel paradise?"

"Not quite, you're thinking of the Balhoonians, they adore camels."

"Bal-who now?"

"Donna, stop dillydallying. The sooner you trust me the sooner we can save the day together. All you have to do is take it and let the magic of superior Time Lord biology do the rest. It's-"

Now it was Donna's turn to interrupt. "Hush up already and hand it over, you prawn!"

He places it in her hand and she swallows it, taking a sip of water from the glass the Doctor holds out to her, helping her lean forward.

"There." She hands him back the glass. "And you say I'm the gobby one."

The Doctor laughs, then leans forward, sliding his arms under her to pick her up again.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

"Getting you into bed. No reason you have to sleep in here." He answered casually.

"But-"

"No buts, Donna! I shall have no nonsense about how heavy you are. That's what it is you know, nonsense. You're not heavy at all." He added more quietly, "Trust me, I've got you." He carefully carried her to her bedroom without the least bit of trouble. He laid her down and wasn't surprised to see that she was already losing the battle against the overwhelming drowsiness casting over her like a spell.

"Come on, let's get these blood-soaked clothes off, then you can sleep." He removed her red-stained clothing, but left enough on her to preserve her dignity.

She lets out a colossal yawn as he tucks her in with a feather-light touch. "You always take care of me." She says, speech slurring as her eyes are nearly completely closed.

"Of course." He replies, sitting gently beside her on the bed and wrapping his fingers around her hand. "Just like you take care of me. That's why we make such a great team." He gave her hand a small squeeze.

"Thank you." Donna said, on the brink of falling under. The Doctor smiled. "Get some sleep, Donna. When you wake up, we've got work to do."

"Wouldn't miss it." she barely manages before she ultimately loses the fight.

The Doctor looks at her fondly, then leaves the healing sleep to work its wonders.

Hours later, after a shower, a fresh set of clothes, and a quick bite to eat, Donna is ready to go. Levers are being yanked, buttons walloped, and dials turned. The Tardis pitches and the floor beneath their feet bounces and shudders.

"Get it right this time, Spaceman, or so help me!" Donna shouts in warning over the ruckus of their time traveling.

"Third time's the charm!" he cheers, smiling like an excited child.

Out in the open air, Donna was taken aback, her breath getting caught in her throat – the area around her was nothing like the place they had been before, yet the physical layout was identical. It was as if someone plucked away all the creatures and humans on chains performing their laborious tasks. The tanks were gone, there were no cages, not even the black tent with the woman was around.

"This is the same place?" she questioned, incredulous.

"Sure is; different time, same planet. Looks like a regular market, I don't even see a domestics tent, do you?"

Donna scanned the area with her eyes, "No, no I don't. That's odd. How are we going to find out who started the business if we don't even know where to look?"

"Have you forgotten?" the Doctor asked, looking at her with a furrowed brow, "I'm a Time Lord, I've got tricks up my sleeve." He wiggled the sonic in his hand.

He fiddled with the settings on the device and followed its whirring through the much tidier and much less horrific pathways lined with booths and stands, Donna trailing close behind.

"Here it is, this is it." the Doctor said, stopping in front of the mobile housing unit the sonic had led them to.

"This." Donna asked flatly. "This is where our villain is? A mobile home?"

The Doctor looked as unconvinced as she sounded, but shrugged his shoulders. "One way to find out."

He stepped up and knocked on the screen door. There was no sound from inside the trailer. The Doctor pointed the sonic at the door and the lock released. Donna cleared her throat in question of his method. He shrugged, "A little breaking and entering never hurt anyone."

"Oh, is that so? What are you now, space adventurer by day, burglar by night?" her tone was entirely playful.

"Well I can't say I don't like the sound of that." he said honestly. The Doctor gripped the handle and swung the door open, stepping inside first. Donna stepped in after him, but he had stopped short and blocked her vision with his body.

"Oi! Budge up you great oaf. I can't see a thing!"

The Doctor stepped forward, head tilted back on his neck. When Donna stepped in a bit more, she gasped. "Oh. my. God."

Both of them looked around.

"How is this possible?" Donna asked the Doctor, who was still speechless, gazing around in wonder, and, if Donna was correct, fear.

"Donna," the Doctor gulped, "it's bigger on the inside."

"Yes, I can see that, you daft old Martian. You might be old and in need of spectacles but I can see just fine."

"Donna, this is someone else's Tardis." It was exactly like the Old Girl, except the color scheme was dark, and sections of tubing and ceiling were hanging down from above. It looked like it could use a bit of the Doctor's tinkering and maintenance. A little bit of TLC would go a long way in a place like this.

She was almost speechless. "What do you mean?"

"Time Lord technology." He observed cryptically, partially ignoring Donna's query.

Donna's eyes lit up when a thought struck her, and a smile formed across her mouth as she asked excitedly, "Is it Jenny? Did she regenerate? Oh, Doctor-"

"No, it's not Jenny." The Doctor quickly dismissed. "Can't you feel it? Something is wrong. This isn't a good place."

"It's a Tardis." Donna defended.

"Not all Tardises are good, it depends on who they belong to and how they were grown."

"So whose Tardis is this?"

"Mine." A voice announced from somewhere deeper within the console room. "Well, mine now anyway." A man stepped out from the shadows. "It did belong to a certain human-Time Lord hybrid and a smokin' blonde hottie." He winked as he jumped off a step. He then sighed, shaking his head, "Parallel universes are a bitch to traverse."

"You." The Doctor growled.

Donna blinked before she too recognized the man. "I remember you. You were everyone's faces. You were everywhere! You tried to kill me in that alley!"

"Yeah, yeah, nothing personal." He waved Donna off.

"Nothing personal!" Donna was squaring up and beginning to march up to the man, to knock his block right off, but the Doctor grabbed her. "Not now Donna, we have the people in the future to think about."

Donna submitted and shook off the Doctor's hands, along with the majority of the hostility that had bubbled up to the surface. She instinctively reached for the Doctor's hand, and he grasped it.

"So then," the Doctor began, looking intently at the man, "you're behind the future domestics ring. Why?"

"Ah, so I guess I was successful. See, you've found me at a point in time where I'm just getting things started. Nice to know my efforts will pay off in a big enough way to draw you back here to try and stop me." He held his chin high.

"Master," the Doctor addressed, "just tell me why. Why set this up?"

"And how did you do it?" Donna added. She felt the Doctor grab her hand tighter in support.

The Master flashed a toothy grin, "Promise to give me half the proceeds when my biography hits the shelves?"

He was being glared at by both of them. "Alright, alright. Hmm, let's see, let's see, where to begin..." he tapped his chin thoughtfully.

He hopped heavily onto the jump-seat and crossed his legs, his hands comfortably behind his head. "It all comes down to jealousy, doesn't it? Hasn't it always?" The Master chuckled.

"You and your companions, Doctor." he nodded his head towards Donna. "They always get saved by you. You pick them out, you select them, you perfect them, you teach them, you mold them, and they look up to you, they respect you, they worship you."

The Master stood up and circled the seat. "Let's face it - humans are your pets, so I decided I would take that away from you. It's what you do when you see your mate having fun with something - you want it for yourself, and if you can't have it," a sinister tone entered the Master's previously nonchalant voice, and he froze where he stood, "you destroy it."

"Okay, so you're a miserable fool. We get it." Donna piped up snarkily. "But how? Why the microchips? What about the blood?" The Doctor looked at her questioningly, so Donna quickly filled him in. "The doctors in lab coats, when they… they were surprised to see red blood, they said it hadn't been that color for a long time."

She returned herself to the Master, "So? Why do that? Why go through the trouble of altering the appearance of human DNA?"

"Because I didn't want the Doctor to know!" the Master roared, his face turning red. "I wanted a species of my own to protect, to govern, to teach! So I stole his beloved humans, and made my own version! I had to have something new to sell to the industry, something never before seen by the Sozee."

"How?" the Doctor asked.

"Genetic manipulator." The Master answered rapidly, shoving his hands in his pockets and turning away towards the wall. He looked up at the ceiling, his back facing them. "They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery." He hung his head.

"Humans don't belong to me, Master. You could save them, too. You can protect them, they can look up to you, and they can teach you and show you amazing things. They'll touch your very soul and you'll never be the same for as long as you live. You'll come to find that you're helpless but to love them for what they are. Come with me and you'll see. We can be a team. Leave the domestic operations behind." The Doctor was nearly pleading.

"No, if I start this market, I'll have a new species all to myself. Humines I'll call them." The Master smiled, spinning around on his heels.

"What about the microchips? What are they for?" Donna asked bravely, though the Doctor could sense the uneasiness in her voice as she posed the question to the Master; she was undoubtedly remembering her own experience.

"The microchip activates the perception filter, so the ugliest part of society doesn't have to be viewed. You must have experienced it. It also serves the purpose of cataloging every species. It's a property ownership tactic."

There was silence among them. "Oh, don't be so surprised!" The Master admonished, "I'm smarter than I look."

"That's all very well," Donna started, since the Doctor seemed to have trouble speaking, "but you won't get the chance to try it all out. Will he, Doctor?"

"Right. We can't let you do this to innocent humans."

"Very well." The Master sighed. "I'll just have to kill you then."

Donna tensed, but the Doctor remained calm, poised, waiting. The Master sent a bolt of electricity out from his hand, aiming it straight for the Doctor and Donna. The Doctor shoved Donna down, and he pushed himself away from her, scrambling for the genetic manipulator. It looked like an electric toothbrush, with an array of buttons and twisting mechanisms. It was connected to the console's panel, plugged in and gaining energy from the dark Tardis's central column.

"Don't you dare!" The Master roared, and he lunged at the Doctor.

As the Doctor was reaching for the invention, the Master collided with him, and they rolled over each other on the ground, brawling and punching like a couple of teenage boys in high school.

Donna finally stood up and was mortified by the scene. "Get off!" she yelled, and reached down to pull the Master away by his shirt with both hands. She flung him away, and the Doctor resumed his quest to retrieve the genetic manipulator.

The Master looked at Donna, rather dumbfounded, "You're stronger than I thought! Not like the little pipsqueaks he usually travels with."

Donna rolled up her sleeves. "Yeah, don't underestimate me, Bucko. I've had my fair share of tosses and tumbles outside pubs on Saturday nights. Let's see what you've got." She beckoned him with her hands, crouching slightly on her knees and preparing for him to charge her.

"Don't think so, love. Not gonna let you distract me." The Master replied, getting himself up off the ground and making a bee line for the Doctor, who had his hands wrapped around the wand-like device.

"Oh no you don't!" Donna shouted, chasing after the Master around the console. She realized with dread that she wouldn't make it to the Master before the Master reached the Doctor; he was too fast. "Doctor, look out!" she warned him, but the Master was already at him, shoving him down. He had let go of the genetic manipulator at the force of the Master's tackle.

"Agh!" he let out a pained noise, and Donna's heart sank. The Master had his hands around the Doctor's throat.

"Please, just come with me. You'll get everything you ever wanted." The Doctor begged, voice strained.

"It would never work for us." The Master countered.

"Yes it would. Just trust me. You can be happy, Master, I swear. It could be the way it used to be between us." The Doctor pleaded, eyes glistening.

There was a moment between them – the Doctor looked into the Master's eyes, and the Master into the Doctor's. For a fleeting moment, it seemed like the Master might agree.

"No, don't!" the Doctor choked out, feeling the Master's hands tightening to a dangerous level. The moment passed, there was no hope. The Doctor felt the last of his breath trickle out from his lungs, with no way to replenish the supply of oxygen to his body with the airways so tightly restricted.

"Oi! Psycho!" Donna called to the Master, and when he turned around, she held up the genetic manipulator in her hand. The Master's eyes opened wide.

Donna let the object fall to the ground, before she stomped on it. It split and crackled as pieces were smashed. The tendrils of electricity coiling around the shaft faded out until there was nothing left but a pile of useless hardware.

The Master huffed angrily. "Damn you!" he shouted, and ran at Donna, knocking her to the ground. She'd had the wind knocked out of her as she hit the ground, and couldn't do anything as the Master ran madly around the navigational panels, flicking switches and pressing buttons. There was a similar whooshing sound, but unlike the Old Girl, this noise was much less harmonic – it sounded like spanners and gears cranking forcefully, like metal crunching and screeching. Donna covered her ears against the harsh noise.

The interior around them faded, and soon the Doctor and Donna were left on the ground outside, the Master's Tardis leaving them behind.

"No, come back!" the Doctor cried out to the sky once he stood. The mobile home vanished. He fell to his knees and held his head in his hands.

Recovered, Donna approached him cautiously. He wasn't usually so open about the way he felt, he was more of the brooding type. She did know that while around her, he tended to be more open, but not like this. This was new, this was bad. He was hurting.

"Doctor?" she squatted near him, placing a hand on his leg. "Hey, what's going on?" she asked softly.

"It's nothing." He said abruptly, and rose to his feet so fast that the movement nearly made Donna fall back on her bum. Standing too, she looked him in the eyes. "It's not nothing. For you to say it's nothing means you think I'm too stupid to know otherwise."

"No, Donna, never. You're brilliant. Let's just get back to the Tardis, okay? We'll talk then." His voice sounded off.

She offered her hand, and he took it with a weak smile.

"Hey, you're hurt." Donna observes with a frown, gently smoothing the part of his pinstriped suit that was torn and stained with his blood. He looked down at his arm. "Oh, that's nothing. Just a scratch. I'll be fine."

They step inside the Tardis together, the Doctor leaning on Donna more than he realizes, but she doesn't complain. He did save her life after all; if he hadn't pushed her, that energy bolt would have gone right through her.

"I'm going to go take care of this, I'll see you later." the Doctor tries, but Donna will have none of it.

"I don't think so, mister. After that, you've got some explaining to do. But first, you're going to let me take care of _you_." She pointed emphatically at his chest.

"But Donna, really-"

"No way, you took care of me before, now let me do this. I know it's just a little scratch, but let me try, and if I really botch up the band-aiding, you can take over, alright?" she said with a raised brow and small grin, trying to entice him into letting her help.

"Alright, Donna." He gave in, and smirked too, though it wasn't as lighthearted as hers.

She dabbed at the scrape on his arm with a cotton ball dipped in antiseptic. "So," she risked a glance at his stony face, "you gonna tell me about your history with the Master? I know the story about Rose, but the Master is a new series altogether."

"We were friends once. On Gallifrey, we went to the same academy. We grew up together, we spent time together, and we were happy. We stood up for each other, and when we were older we would go out for drinks. New people we would meet often mistook us for brothers. I thought we'd have been friends forever." He looks faraway as he speaks. "Even then, I could see a difference in him. He liked to start arguments with people, liked to trick people with hypnosis, humiliate them. Over time, him and I, well, we just grew apart, we grew so far apart." There was a pause before he amended his statement, "Not that I wanted to. Sure, he was getting into rough water with his choices, but I always thought he would come out of it. Like a phase that would pass."

He looks at her, "Friendship is dangerous. I mean, look what happens to you just because you're my friend. You get hurt, you get scared, you get beaten and sometimes your spirit gets weighed down a little heavier whenever we're unsuccessful. That happens, all of it, because we're friends." He looked away, overwhelmed by guilt.

"Doctor, I'm sorry." She long since forgot about disinfecting his wound, and now looked into his eyes. When he finally looked at her again, she gave him a sympathetic smile. "Friendship can be dangerous, even for both parties, but you listen to me," she grabbed his hand firmly, "when friendship is done right, when you know the person you're friends with so well, that you trust wholeheartedly that they won't ever turn on you, leave you, or let you down, you're friends for as long as you've got air in your lungs," and she knows because that's what she has with the Doctor; what she says she draws from her experience with this man from outer space. "There's nothing you wouldn't do for each other, it's something that goes both ways. Maybe there's hope left for you and the Master. Don't give up, if there's any part of him left like the part you remember from long ago, he'll need you to believe in him so he can bring it out again. It's possible."

He looked at her with a sideways glance, one that was disbelieving. "Don't look at me like that, I know you can do it. You manage to have faith in me for god knows what reason." She nudged him playfully.

"Besides, it wasn't a total loss today. We saved the people. There's not going to be a black market for domestics at any point in the future. I gave that genetic manipulator what for. You and me, we nipped it in the bud, didn't we? Saved the day like always." She leaned against his shoulder, avoiding the small wound.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right." The Doctor agreed, putting his arm around her. "You know, I do appreciate this," he briefly looked down at his arm where she had been patching him up, "but I'm a Time Lord, by tomorrow morning this will be gone."

"Oh, give over!" she complained loudly with a laugh, "You can't even let me have the satisfaction of pretending to be helpful?"

"Donna, you're more helpful than you could ever know, trust me." He took her in a sudden embrace that she wasn't expecting, but her surprise melted into compassion and understanding. She wrapped both arms around him, and felt his grasp tighten. She nestled her chin into his shoulder. "Any time, Spaceman. I'm here for you."


	17. Nessie

**Nessie**

It's early morning, and as freshly showered Donna rounds the corner down the hall, she stands still for a moment. There's no whirring, just a faint hum, meaning at some point during the night the Doctor landed the ship. 'Hmm,' she thought, then lifted her shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. She resumed shuffling down the hall, turning through one of the doors on the left – the kitchen.

The hot mug of tea on the counter made her grin, assembled by the Doctor, kept warm and steamy by the Tardis. She picked up the mug with one hand, and smoothed the counter-top with her other in gratitude to the beloved time machine. She felt a vibration beneath her hand, like the purring of a cat, knowing the Tardis was acknowledging her.

She sips her tea, not yet awake enough to put any thought into what she would have for breakfast. She watched the sunlight filter in through the artificial window, pale golden beams stretching into the room like inquisitive fingers poking through a mail slot. 'You're too thoughtful,' she fondly chides the Tardis with a grin. The blue box makes this spectacle for her and her alone, always charming and surprising her despite her having been here for weeks now.

Once the mug is half empty, she pops a slice of bread in the toaster. She eats it dry, and finishes the slice in a few bites. She swallows the last of her tea, but something catches her eye as she brings the mug away from her lips.

'Come outside. There's someone I want you to meet,' appeared at the bottom of the mug.

When she steps out of the Tardis, her feet land on grass, and her eyes meet luscious green mountains and a serene body of water. The sky was a perfect blue, no chance of rain in sight. She walked to the water's edge and held up a hand to block out some sunlight, looking out into the horizon of the gorgeous landscape before her. Nearer to the water, the gentle breeze was more apparent, and tugged lightly at the ends of her hair.

With a colossal splash of water, and a whoop of excitement, the Doctor emerged from the water, a snorkel-like apparatus on his face. It wasn't the mask that made her jaw drop, it was instead the large beast he was straddling.

"Morning Donna!" he cheered at seeing her. "Hop on!"

He patted the creature's back, its long neck curvy and dinosaur-like, its flesh a stunning shade of slate blue.

"Is that…!?" Donna could barely find words. "That's the flippin' Loch Ness Monster!"

The Doctor frowned. "She much prefers Nessie. It's been a while since I've come to visit. We go way back, don't we Nessie dear?" he asked affectionately, rubbing the sweet spot on the creature's back, causing it to shiver with pleasure.

"Jesus bloody Christ!" Donna slapped her hand against the front of her forehead.

The Doctor frowned again, waving his hands at her, "Language, Donna! She's got little ones nearby."

"Right, sorry." Donna says confused.

"Well, don't just stand there. Come say hello!" the Doctor invited his best mate, and she tentatively walked over to the end of the dock.

The blue beast let out a huff through its nostrils, and Donna flinched, but the Doctor encouraged her to continue.

He tossed her a snorkel-like mask once she and Nessie were acquainted, and Donna climbed aboard, the Doctor hoisting her up behind him. The skin was scaly but smooth, shiny and sleek.

"Down, Nessie!" the Doctor cheers, and the creature dives down, Donna letting out a small yelp at the abrupt thrust forward. She grabs hold of the Doctor's waist and soon they are deep below the surface.

She is suddenly surrounded by a new world, exposed to all the wonderful secrets of the depths that no land-dwellers laid their eyes on. It's beautiful beyond words.

Mini 'Loch Ness monsters' swam around them, and Donna can hardly believe this is her Monday morning.


	18. Nothing Special

**Nothing Special**

"Donna!" The Doctor shouted. "Come on! Get down here so we can get going!"

"I think you'd better go without me." Donna called back to him from her bedroom.

"Now why would you say that? You know I made reservations for two." the Doctor mused as he walked up the stairs. He reached her door and gripped the knob. He knocked softly but didn't wait for her to answer before he stepped inside.

She sat on the bed, not facing him, dressed in an elegant gown for the evening, pale coral in color and a fair complement to Donna's complexion and hair. White gloves covered her arms and hands, and her hair waved its way down her shoulders in a river of flame colors tresses. The jewelry she wore accentuated her dressed-to-the-nines appearance. She was stunning.

"What's wrong?" the Doctor asked.

"I can't go to this ball." she said. "Who am I kidding?" she turned to the Doctor. "Honest, I've got plenty to keep me busy while you have a night out."

The Doctor would have been barely able to believe her, but he was all too familiar by now with her lack of self-esteem. He didn't mind prodding her, especially since she always found a way to enjoy herself no matter what they were up to, he just wished she didn't have to go through this to begin with, the trail of thoughts that led her to feeling the way she did right now.

"I won't go without you, you know that." He sat down beside her and took her hand in his. "Why don't you want to go, Donna?"

"I can't go in there and fool all those high-class snobs. No way, Jose." She thought that would be enough, but when she looked at his face, he seemed expectant. "Every time we go to one of these events, it's like they know I'm inferior to them, it's like they can read the lowness and unworthiness on my face. I'm not special enough." she explained.

"You are too!" he declared. "You've got it so wrong. They look at you like that because they're taken by you, Donna. I've never told you but, I always get asked on the side, at least twice, how I ended up with such a lovely wife."

Donna balked. "No."

"Yes!" he countered with an emphatic nod of his head. "Donna Noble, I'll tell you a hundred times over - you're the most special person I've ever known. There's nothing _not_ special about you." He let a moment pass to allow the words an opportunity to be absorbed by her. "You're special, and you're going to join me at this ball, because I won't have it any other way than with you." He said with a firm yet endearing tone, gripping her hand a little tighter.

She turned her face to him and he knew she was about to give in. He reached his arms out to her, "Come here. You look as beautiful as ever."

She leaned into him and he hugged her close. All those years of being told she wasn't special, made it his job to remind her that she was.

By the middle of the night, Donna seemed a mile away from any feelings of worthlessness, smiling and twirling around the dance floor. The Doctor grinned as he watched her glide through the steps of the Jupiterian Waltz with the Duke of Jupiter himself.

Job well done.


	19. Heating

**Heating**

"You're telling me," Donna started bitterly, sending a cloud of foggy breath into the air, rubbing her hands vigorously up and down her arms, "in the most prime example of superior alien technology, Time Lord technology no less," she emphasized, the ferocity in her tone growing by the second, "we have to freeze to death because the heating's on the fritz!?"

The Doctor shrugged, looking behind himself at her as he worked on the system, sonic in hand, "We could always go to your mum's." he suggested, knowing full well what kind of answer she would give.

Donna stopped moving, a look of horror plastering itself across her features before she recovered. "No thanks, I'll freeze." She stated certainly, pulling the hood of her heavy jacket up and over her head.

The Doctor smirked smugly, turning back around to tinker with the heating.

* * *

 _Possibly the shortest one I ever wrote! Sorry for that, and I also apologize for not replying to any of your reviews lately, but when I have time, I promise I will! They are still very much appreciated._

 _Luckily, the chapters I've been posting have already been written, just waiting to be uploaded. If not for them, there wouldn't be anything new to read at all. Life just won't slow down long enough for much else._


	20. Nonstop

**Nonstop**

Donna was in the dining area of the Tardis, setting plates for her and the Doctor. She made a lovely lunch for them, a quiche with loads of healthy vegetables, and a fresh batch of lemonade. She was happy the Doctor agreed to have a nice quiet day in; it had been awhile, and though nothing traumatic had happened to either of them recently, she just felt like it would be relaxing for a change. She was surprised the Doctor had agreed – he was in a mood lately to go non-stop, from this planet to that planet, from this galaxy to the one across the cosmos, to see this outer-space opera, to visit Pleb (his alien pet donkey), to see Versailles being built, to show her the future King and Queen of Canada, to see the planet Zala Palyan 6 where everything was straight out of the circus, or to the Edible City of Manducare where everything you could see was, well, edible.

Non. Bloody. Stop.

Walking back into the kitchen, she was stunned by the sight before her. There was the Doctor, wrestling with a fish-like creature the size of a mailbox. It was bright green and orange, with fins that doubled for wings. It flew around the kitchen madly, knocking cabinet doors open and sending pots and appliances to the floor with a clatter, crash, bang, and boom – a deafening cacophony of chaos.

"Not the quiche!" Donna yelled, and ran to the counter to protect the cooling dish. Once it was safely on the dining room table, she rushed back to the kitchen in time to see the Doctor leap toward the flying fish. He disappeared behind the kitchen island, taking himself and the creature down to the ground. He bolted upright a few moments later, and had managed to bottle up the unruly beast in a large glass tank. He struggled to keep the lid on.

The Doctor met Donna's expression, and blew a rapid breath of air out of his mouth to blow back the stray section of hair that tickled his forehead.

"Hello, Donna. Lunch done already?" he greeted cheerily, as if there wasn't a creature hell-bent on escaping from the glass box under his arm.

She put her hands on her hips and tapped the toes of one foot against the floor. "What part of a quiet day in didn't you understand, Spaceman?"

The Doctor tried to think of an explanation, but a pan that had been teeter-tottering on the counter's edge fell to the ground loudly, and shattered his concentration. He let out a nervous laugh, and Donna rolled her eyes.

'Non-stop,' she thought, taking the tank out his hands and placing it on the table, with a heavy-bottomed pot to hold the lid in place, 'and I wouldn't have it any other way...'

She smiled at the Doctor, being forgiven making him relax enormously. She grabbed the pitcher of lemonade from the refrigerator, stepping over the mess of objects on the floor (which her Spaceman would be cleaning up whether he realized it or not), and led them into the dining room.


	21. Escape Tactics

**Escape Tactics**

"Come on, Donna! Stay with me!" The Doctor shouted over his shoulder as the two of them barreled into the Tardis.

"Stay with me! Are you bloody serious? That's what I should be saying to you, you're the wounded one!" she argued, slamming the doors shut behind them. The Doctor sat on the jump-seat, leaning over his knees while clutching his shoulder. Donna turned around in time to see him in the moment. When he noticed she was watching, he straightened his back and quickly gathered himself.

"Not to worry, I'll be right as rain once I've slept. Now," he stood on his feet, the slightest bit unsteady, which Donna didn't fail to notice, "let's get out of here." He swung his hand down on a lever, and the entire room was suddenly tilting and vibrating beneath them.

The room pitched wildly, more than normal. Donna flailed her arms out for anything to grab hold of, and was enormously relieved she'd been standing near a coral column, or else she'd have collided with the grating for sure.

"I don't think that was the right one!" she hollered over to him angrily.

The Doctor scoffed as he sat bouncing on the jump-seat. "I know how to fly my own Tardis!"

"Could have fooled me." Donna muttered to herself.

"I heard that, Noble!" he grumbled as he futilely turned knobs and slammed buttons.

The Doctor bravely leaped over to the side of the console nearest Donna, and held onto the railing with a white-knuckle grasp as his body was pulled to the left and right. He studied a nearby screen.

"That's impossible! They installed a tracking signal!"

"Disable it!" Donna shouted over the ruckus from beside him, thoroughly frustrated. The Tardis groaned and creaked at the stress of trying to escape the signal while within the Vortex.

"I can't! Not without-" the Doctor stopped mid-sentence.

A particularly rough jolt landed them on their rears. They were both on their backs, and they could feel the tremors of their traveling all the way up and down their spines.

"Not without crashing." He finished, making tense eye contact with his fiery-haired companion. Her hair fell about her head in an untamed tangle of silky tresses. His own spiky hair had fallen a bit flat, and the edges trembled at the nature of their current transportation.

"We already seem to be doing that!" Donna pointed out.

"No, all of this turbulence is because of the hold the galactic troopers have on us. If we crash the Tardis, it might break the link. They might think we've been destroyed."

"Something tells me they probably won't be wrong." Donna remarked. "What if we do get destroyed? And what about the Tardis? Will she be alright?"

Part of the Doctor was deeply touched that she had thought to be concerned for his beloved ship, and he did know that Donna cared for her.

"She's been in tougher scrapes than this, and frankly, so have we." He reasoned. He stood up and held out his hand for her to take from the ground, holding onto the console behind him with his other.

"Are you with me, Donna?" he asked her, still holding his hand out.

"Always, Spaceman." She took his hand and he hoisted her to her feet.

He ran around the console, with Donna's hand in his, pressing, turning, and flipping all combination of buttons, levers, switches, and dials along the way.

"Hang on!" he yelled to her over the increasing fray, and grabbed her tight to his body with one arm. She held onto him, and soon the brunt of the crash and resulting explosion were all they knew. There was no time travel, no galactic troopers, no planet Earth or star-spattered skies; just loud noise, the sudden stop, the pain of landing, and the debris falling as the dust settled. Of all the times he crashed his space ship, this was one of the worst.

"Donna?" The Doctor spoke, but he couldn't hear his own voice. Somehow they'd landed on the floor in a heap, again.

He looked down at the top of her head, her face buried in his chest somewhere. "Donna, are you alright?"

She gave no answer, so he tried again, "Hey, can you hear me, Donna?"

His hearts were sinking.

"Donna?" He shook her a little this time, and she picked her face up.

"Is it over? Are we dead?" she asked, drowsy in a comical way, as if she'd been in bed for hours and slept through their latest brush with death. She began to cough as some of the smoke entered her lungs.

"We're not dead, I don't think. Take it easy." But she was already removing herself from his grasp and standing on her own feet.

"I'll get those, you see if they're still tailing us, yeah?" Donna motioned to the few small fires around the room, and left to fetch the fire extinguisher.

He noticed that the tracking signal had been disabled upon their less-than-gossamer landing.

"We're in the clear, Donna!" he cheered to her, turning around to find her snuffing out the last of the fires.

"Well that's good news, now how about you tend to your girl before she refuses to fix your cuppa."

The Doctor's mega-wat smile diminished severely. "Oh, Donna, I didn't think you were hurt. What's wrong?"

"Not me, you tart! The Tardis!" she swirled her fingers up at the ceiling.

"Right, of course."

"Then right after that you're putting us in the Vortex and getting some sleep, mister. I'll hear no counter-arguments, thank you very much." She said sternly. She turned away from him but quickly pivoted, "And one more thing," she added, facing him once more, "no more escape tactics like this one."

"You got it." the Doctor saluted, and Donna responded with a nod.

"Now if you'll pardon me, I'm off to take a hot shower. When you wake up I'll have something for you in the kitchen." The Doctor's eyes lit up at the promise of Donna's kitchen treats (they were always pleasing and delicious).

"Get to work, Martian."

"Yes, Donna." He said quietly with a smirk as she sauntered out of the room.

The Tardis was patched up, and would get a nice re-charge after a day or two in the Vortex. The Doctor rested for a few hours, and afterwards he was munching on a blueberry muffin, toasting a cuppa with Donna in the kitchen to another adventure had, and another near-death crisis averted.


	22. How Do We Go On?

**How Do We Go On?**

Donna Noble jolted awake. Earlier, as she was falling asleep, there had been a feeling in her chest, something continuously nagging her. It was a feeling like someone she loved desperately needed her, or that they were in some kind of horrible danger. How could that be? The only person she loved more than anything else in the universe was sleeping soundly beside her. It was typical of him to fall asleep before her these days, since he began forcing himself to fall into a sleep pattern that matched his ginger human.

However, now that she was sat up in bed, he awoke as well, caused by the shift in the bed to his left. "Donna?" he asked drowsily, running a hand through his hair before placing that same hand on top of hers.

"Sorry, Spaceman. Go back to sleep, sweetheart." She turned to him, offering an apologetic smirk.

"Was it a nightmare?" he asked, now sitting up fully beside her and trying to find her eyes.

"Not exactly…" She replied, now recalling what she had dreamed about, the reason why she felt needed elsewhere by someone special. It made sense.

"We need tea for this, don't we?" the Doctor asked, turning his head to seek out his slippers.

"I'll put the kettle on." Donna sighed, putting her arms into her robe before shuffling to the kitchen.

The Doctor met her there just minutes later, a navy blue robe surrounding his body. With his hands stuffed into the pockets, he sat down at the table while Donna pulled two mugs from the cupboard. She stared down at them for a moment, their hollow caverns reflecting a certain part of her soul.

"It was about the Metacrisis Doctor." she announced abruptly, spinning to face him with her hands on the edge of the countertop behind her.

The Doctor looked at her then, right in her eyes. He could see pain, he could see yearning, he could see all of the pent up emotion that they had both been feeling but not expressing.

"We need to talk about it, Doctor. It wasn't right. We need him. We owe him."

"There's nothing we can do about it; we can't get to him even though I want to."

"We're his parents!" Donna protested.

"I know, I know." the Doctor said in a voice to try and halt her rising hysterics, which he couldn't blame her for. He blamed himself. "I had to do what I had to do. You were my biggest concern." He confessed.

"I wasn't worth it. I know you love me, I'll never understand why, but I bloody well know my life should not have been placed higher above our own child. That's all he was, a _child_. We let him go, we let him go with _her_ of all people, and left him in a world we can never enter into."

"I didn't have any other choice. I couldn't lose you. If I hadn't handled the situation, you'd be dead now. There was no time." The Doctor hung his head.

Donna sat across from him and took his hands in her own, searching to meet his eyes, "Isn't there anything we can do? There has to be." She gave his hand a squeeze in an effort to rouse him.

The Doctor hesitated lifting his head to her. She would be able to see the answer in his eyes, they both knew it. He wanted to be her hero, and save them from this misery, but there was no way he could make that happen. Sure enough, when the Doctor's eyes met hers, she turned away sadly. She lifted herself from the chair and turned the stove down to silence the screaming kettle.

"We'll get through it, Donna." He rose to stand beside her, placing a supportive hand on her shoulder. She finished pouring hot water over the tea bags in the mugs, then turned herself towards him, burying her face in his chest. She nuzzled into the plush fabric of his robe as he encircled her body with his arms, letting his chin rest atop her head.

"Don't you ever wonder? Don't you think about what it would be like if he were here?" she asked, voice muffled and low.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head before replying on a sigh, "All the time." He held her until she removed herself from him to finish the tea. She took the tea bags out and added a quick splash of milk to each one.

She brought the two mugs over to the table and sat down. She looked at the light tan liquid through the tendrils of steam and tried to find a positive difference from when she looked at the empty space inside just minutes ago. The outside of the mug was warm, and somehow it just seemed right – the mug now had tea. It was a proper cuppa, not just an empty vessel. She needed to fill the space in her soul, if only she could do it with tea, if only it was that simple…

He watched her as she was lost in thought. "Come on," he removed the mug from her hands with ease as she freely surrendered it. She followed him to the console room and noticed the open doors.

They both sat down with their legs hanging over the threshold of the Tardis, watching the swirls of pink and purple colors of galaxies float across their view as the Tardis aimlessly drifted in space. The inky abyss, peppered with sparkling dots of white light, looked blissfully serene and peaceful. There was silence in front of them, except for the gentle whirring of the Tardis, but by now both of them were accustomed to her soft noise, so it didn't draw their attention. The Doctor handed Donna the mug she always drank out of, and took a large sip from his own.

 _He should be able to see_ this, she thought, gazing back out at the atmosphere after taking the proffered cup.

The Doctor heard her in his mind, and hugged her close to his side. She rested her head against his shoulder.

If there was anything he could do to bring their son back into their lives, he would do it in less than one beat of his hearts, but the excruciating truth was that wherever their son was, whatever he was doing, he would continue to grow with Rose by his side, and no mother or father to guide him and show him how deeply he was loved.

* * *

 _So I ended this one here, but I may add more… what do you think?_


	23. We Do It Together

_This chapter is a continuation of the previous chapter (which I have since edited, so feel free to give that one a read-over, though there aren't any major changes, just some minor tweaking). I hope you guys like it!_

 **We Do It Together**

A few days later:

He didn't want to tell her what he'd been working on for fear of getting her hopes up. He didn't want to be responsible if they came crashing down because of his lack of success. It was too soon to see if the Tardis could handle the transition from one world to another. If he could develop a way for her to slip through the walls without triggering any sort of fissure or hiccup in the fabric of realities, they would be able to reunite with their son. That thought alone made his hearts beat faster, but it was followed by a degree of restraint. He wanted to feel excited and hopeful about the possibility of having a family with Donna, but he had to protect himself against the same disappointment he was protecting Donna from. Jenny was bad enough.

Again Donna woke up, shaken by the same feeling as the first night this happened. This time, it was much more intense, and felt more real than ever. Her goosebumps made her chilly as the air ghosted over them now that the duvet had fallen away. She was sitting up, a clammy hand pressed to a burning forehead. She suddenly felt overwhelmingly nauseous. Racing to the bathroom, she reached the toilet just in time as the contents of her stomach forced itself up and out.

"Donna, you alright?" the Doctor's voice echoed from the other side of the door.

"I'm fine." She replied, head still hung over the bowl. The Doctor was picking up on the cloudy thoughts in her head. He tried to reach out to her mentally but he couldn't get passed the mesh of her fear and confusion.

He cracked open the bathroom door to find her leaning against the side of the bath. He frowned at her. Her skin was flushed and she looked like she could sleep for a week. The dark, pronounced circles under her eyes and sweat beading on her brow made him nervous. She looked frail.

He disappeared momentarily, returning with a wash cloth and running it under the cool tap. "You're sick." He stated simply, kneeling down beside her and pressing it against her cheek. She relished the sensation for a minute before taking the cloth for herself, standing up on wobbly legs. "I'll be alright."

He attempted to help steady her but she brushed him off. "Come on, Donna. Let me at least check you out in the med-bay," he pleaded, but she was not convinced. "You love to humor me. Please? It'll make me feel better." He pouted and held onto her arm. Since she started having the dreams about the Metacrisis, she had become distant. He didn't want to reveal how much that was affecting him.

She rolled her eyes, which were watery, and consigned to his care with a silent nod of her head. She cursed her temperature for causing the tears to form, forever hating seeming weak and vulnerable in front of another person, especially the Doctor.

The Doctor ran his scans, and hummed in dissatisfaction at the results.

"What's the matter?" Donna asked, laying back on the examination bed. She coughed heartily, rolling on her side as she rode out the rough series of coughs.

"The Tardis is telling me that there's nothing wrong with you, not a thing. No fever, no virus." He relayed. Donna sat up then, squinting quizzically at the ceiling, "Darling, you can see that I'm feeling a bit under the weather, can't you?"

The sentient blue box replied directly, her voice echoing in Donna's and the Doctor's minds.

 _Your body is not sick, my lady Donna. There is a psychosomatic and telepathic connection causing your symptoms. You are not the one._

"Well that doesn't make any bloody sense." Donna remarked quietly, laying back down and closing her eyes, massaging her forehead.

"It's him." The Doctor says suddenly, causing Donna to crack open her eyes. "It has to be."

"What?" Donna asks without sitting up again, her energy depleted.

"Donna," the Doctor said, eyes wide as they made contact with her blue ones, "it's our son."

She was about to question him, but he continued before she could get the words out, which she was partially grateful for, since she was exhausted, "The Tardis said it herself, it's a mental connection. You've been dreaming about him for days. This is it!" he shouted, running from her side to the laboratory aboard the ship.

Donna tenderly rose to her feet and trailed after him at the pace of a feeble jog. She worried all the way there – if she was feeling what the Metacrisis was feeling, why was he so sick?

The Doctor was moving quickly all around the lab by the time Donna got there. She mused at how much of a nutter he would look like to anyone else. The Doctor started babbling once Donna entered, "I've been working on something; it might get us to him. I don't know if it will work, which is why I didn't tell you about it." He ran to a large white cabinet, retrieving a paint roller and paint tray.

Donna's vision blurred, and though she blinked the hot tears from her eyes, she still couldn't see clearly. "You should have told me anyway." Her voice was nasally, and she coughed again, doubling over and wincing at the pain in her ribs. The Doctor rushed over to a large machine, turning it on and bringing it to life.

"I didn't want to disappoint you. This still might not work, but we've got to try. He needs us." The Doctor said, aligning a distributing chute over the mouth of a large bucket. Moments later, he flipped a switch and a metallic liquid rushed down the chute like water rapids, spilling into the bucket.

Donna walked over to the bucket and peered at the contents. "It looks like a mirror. I can see myself." She commented, watching the thick substance in the bucket ripple as it continued to be deposited into the container.

"The color is just a happy coincidence. I'll give the Tardis a coat or two of this stuff and it will act like an armor. It should protect her and the walls of the parallel world. I think I'm going to call it stealth mode." He excitedly waggled his eyebrows, letting his voice drop to emphasize just how cool and secretive having a stealth mode feature would be.

"What if it doesn't work?" she voiced, eyelids dropping.

The Doctor didn't answer, his mouth formed a thin line as he didn't want to reveal that he had no other plan. The mixture was emptied into the bucket, and the Doctor lifted it by the handle. He carried it over to the paint roller and tray, but before he could take everything in his arms, Donna asked, "Do we still have the capsules from Teeger's?" Teeger's was a market they'd been to months ago. The market on planet Zibzod sold some of the best medicine in the galaxy, and the Doctor needed to restock his medical supplies.

"Sorry Donna, but because of the nature of your illness, anything I give you won't change your symptoms, even the heal-all capsules from Teeger's."

"Well then, you'd better think of something, and quick." Donna warned, just before she collapsed on the grating.

The Doctor rushed over to her, feeling her fevered flesh and instantly becoming alarmed by the heat beneath his hand.

"Sorry." she whispered just before falling unconscious.

"Oh, Donna." He said, kicking himself for not realizing just how sick she was. The symptoms might be subconscious, but they were having a severely physical effect.

"I can fix this." He tells himself, scooping her into his arms and heading for the bedroom. He lays her down and slips carefully under the covers beside her. He holds her as close to himself as he can, knowing that because of the circumstances surrounding their bond, keeping her close to him might compensate for the weakness of her half-human immune system. In general, the closer they were to each other, the stronger they were.

Thirty minutes pass but her fever doesn't calm. "Come on Donna, you can make it." he coos, thinking he may soon have to get her into a bath of cool water if it didn't soon recede, though that might not even work. She technically wasn't the one who was ill.

While he waits, he ponders what it would be like aboard the Tardis with their son. What name did he choose for himself? How much was he like himself, and how much did he act like Donna? Pete's World was three years ahead of their time, how old would that make him? Twenty-two? Surely not more than thirty. What was original and unique about him? What would their first stop be? There were so many choices. Maybe he would see if Donna had any ideas, or maybe he would show his son the first thing he showed the love of his life, the beginning of planet Earth's formation.

He checked her temperature again, and was relieved that it had finally begun to decrease, albeit minimally. "Oh, good girl." He praised her, hugging her tightly. He thought about everything the two of them had been through while he waited patiently for her to wake, monitoring her fever closely. He thought of the first time sh appeared in the console room. If only he knew then just how much he would grow to love and care for this human, for the beautiful woman with gorgeous ginger tresses and a heart bigger than the sun. How she could think she was never special completely shattered his hearts, especially since he loved her so deeply and knew exactly the kind of effect she had on the people (and creatures) they met. Just seeing her face every morning made him feel like he was home, in a way he hadn't felt since before the Time War, and maybe never then either. Maybe he never felt like this in the entire 900-year span of his life. He hoped the armor fulfilled the task he invented it for, because after everything she had done for him, Donna deserved to be happy. She didn't deserve to suffer like this.

Just then, she snuffled awake, and tilted her head up to look at the man on whose chest she had been resting on.

"Hello." She greeted with a small smile.

"Feeling better?" the Doctor asked, stroking her hair.

"Loads. Thanks for staying with me. You okay?" she questioned, noticing the odd way he was regarding her.

"I just love you, Donna. I love you more than you'll ever know." his words were sincere. Donna leaned up to kiss him on the lips. It wasn't a passionate kiss, but a kiss that told him he was loved, too.

The Doctor placed his hands on either side of her face when they broke apart, "We're going to find him, Donna. I promise."

Her hand came up to press against the hand on her cheek, while her other hand raked through his hair and came to rest at the back of his neck. Never in her life was a man so dedicated to her as this Martian. "You know I'll love you for as long as I live, right? Even if we don't find him Doctor, I'll still love you. Promise me you won't go bonkers and lock yourself away if this doesn't work."

He kept quiet.

"Doctor, promise me you won't do that. Please. If you beating yourself up is going to be the result should we fail, then let's not even even try."

He scoffed, but she quickly explained. "I'm serious! I can't lose you like that, I don't think I'd survive." She spoke honestly, after all, lately their bond kept her going; her mind only kept from burning because of their connection to each other. If that connection was severed, so would the hold that was keeping her mind from melting inside her skull. Beyond that, she had grown to love the Doctor so incredibly that seeing him defeated was something she couldn't bear.

"I promise." He answered finally.

"That's more like it. I love you." she pecked him on the mouth and climbed out of bed.

Once the Tardis was painted, they both ventured inside and set the controls.

"Take my hand." The Doctor said to Donna. Naturally, she placed her hand in his.

"Ready?" he asked. She took a deep breath and sent out a silent prayer that this would work.

"Ready."

He pulled down the lever, and the Tardis roared into action. The column pulsed up and down, and the entire room vibrated. The floor beneath them pitched and they nearly get bucked from the console railing that they were holding onto.

"We're approaching the wall!" the Doctor shouted over ruckus. "Contact in 5... 4... 3... 2..." before he could announce "1," the Tardis seemingly crashed. They were both knocked to the ground as the blue box collided with the wall of the parallel world they were trying to enter. The Tardis groaned louder and the reverberations strengthened as she struggled to break the surface.

"Is it working?" Donna shouted her question to him. They both remained on their hands and knees, waiting to land before risking standing.

"I don't know!" he shouted in reply.

A loud thud echoed through the rafters, and the Tardis creaked as she continued to settle. "Is that it? Did we make it? Are we in Pete's World?" Donna fired one question after another, eagerly rising from the ground and running to the doors, the Doctor close behind.

They were in an alley behind a large building. The trash skip outside had the name of a hospital on it. "He's in hospital?" Donna asked aloud, instantly overcome with worry and concern. "We knew he wasn't well but to be in hospital?"

The Doctor took her hand, "Come on, let's find out what's going on."

They walked through the revolving doors and stood in the lobby. "How do we find him?"

"Time Lords have an ability to feel other Time Lords nearby. Concentrate, Donna." he closed his eyes and took in a few deep breaths, so Donna did the same. She didn't know if being half Time Lord would affect her ability to find her son, but she was bloody well going to try.

In a matter of seconds, the Doctor knew where to go, but he waited, watching Donna. "Feel anything?" he asked.

She replied a few moments later, delaying so she could focus a bit longer. The feeling in her gut was undeniable. "Second floor, somewhere on the left side, door on the left… no, it's on the right."

He beamed at her, "You are brilliant."

She grinned, before tugging him to get moving, "Come on Spaceman, let's go get our boy."

 _To be continued..._

* * *

 _What do you think of the name Oliver? Can you picture that being the duplicate's name? I can't decide if I really like it yet, so I'm a bit curious to see what you all think! Thanks. :)_

 _PS – I have no idea if a trash skip and a garbage dumpster are exactly the same thing, but during my research I found a skip to be similar. If you live in the UK, I'd love to get your input – are US dumpsters called skips in the UK?_


	24. Pete's World

**Pete's World**

 _Here's the third and final part! Enjoy!_

 _One warning: there are some mild swear words that come up later in the chapter._

The elevator doors open and they rush down the hall. They come to a door on the right side of the hall, and peer in through the rectangular window. "Oh God." Donna speaks in a frightened voice. Seeing him there made her heart clench. That was _their_ boy, genetically half of each of them, parts of her and parts of the Doctor in one individual, laying helpless in a bed. She wiped the single tear that appeared in the corner of her eye. The need to protect him was instant and overwhelming. She also couldn't stop the guilt that poured over her. She should have stopped this from happening, stopped the Doctor from leaving their son on Bad Wolf Bay with Rose, of all people.

The Doctor rapped his knuckles against the glass of the window, shaking Donna from her thoughts, and gaining the attention of the person sitting alone beside the bed. The blonde woman's eyes widened when she recognized him, looking back and forth a couple of times between the man in the bed and the man at the window.

She put her tablet down and rose from the chair to slowly approach the door, staring with a stunned expression through the glass at the pair of them. She shook herself from her daze and opened the door, with the same shocked expression. "You're not supposed to be here."

The Doctor smirked, "Hello to you too, Jackie."

"Can we come in?" Donna asked, glancing past Jackie at the familiar man.

"Sure, I don't see why not, but… what are you doing here?"

After entering the room, the Doctor began examining the Duplicate while Donna explained the situation to Jackie.

The Doctor noticed first that the Duplicate was younger. The regeneration – which wasn't supposed to be possible for a Time Lord with a single heart – must have only had enough strength to heal him back to a youthful age rather than the one he had been. He looked like a teenager, with hair that fell flat against his head and limbs that he hadn't quite grown into.

"The Doctor and I came as fast as we could, it's a miracle we made it." Donna finished explaining, then moved on to ask one of the many questions that plagued her mind from the moment they arrived. "How did this happen?"

Jackie sighed then, and Donna prepared herself as best she could for what seemed like bad news. "There was a car accident. Some daft muppet ran the light when he was driving Rose to work. The two of them were arguing all morning, and Rose never shuts up about starting a family. Always nags him about it, poor bloke. I can tell he doesn't love her, but Rose won't see it."

"Is he going to be okay? What has the medical staff said?" Donna asked, saving the domestic issues for after her son was well again.

"They don't even know what's wrong. Fat lot of good they are! He nearly died when the cars crashed, but he must have regenerated before the ambulance arrived, so his injuries, I don't know… healed themselves." Jackie sighed again, before continuing, "He's been ill ever since, kind of like you were when Rose brought you home, remember that?" Jackie looked at the Doctor, smiling faintly. "He hasn't woken up, poor Oliver's been in a coma for a week now." Jackie said sadly as she looked back over to the hospital bed.

"His name is Oliver?" Donna gasped, not prepared for hearing her son's name.

"Yeah, he chose it at random."

"No he didn't," Donna laughed, then looked over at the Doctor, "Oliver was my dad's middle name."

The Doctor smiled at Donna, her expression brightening his mood substantially as it always did when she was happy. He looked at Jackie next.

"How's Rose?" the Doctor asked seriously.

"Not a scratch on her. He strategically swerved the car to keep her safe. He might not love her but that don't mean he ain't the kindest man I ever met. Has a bit of an attitude sometimes, but I'd be a right liar if I said I didn't care for him." Jackie paused, looking sorrowfully at the boy. "I've been staying here with him. He's made no change day after day." Silence filled the room.

 _Hey._ Donna casts out mentally, causing the Doctor to turn his head. _I think Jackie should go home. She's wiped out. Looks like she's been here for days._

 _Good idea._ He replies to her telepathically with a nod.

"Jackie," Donna begins, "why don't you go home and get some rest? Have a shower and a hot cuppa. Get a nice bite to eat. We really appreciate that you've been with him this whole time, but we can keep an eye on him." Donna smiled as warmly as she could.

Jackie looked between the two of them as if to eye up their trustworthiness, but she quickly consented. "Yeah, alright." She walked to the chair her bag had been sitting on, and dug around for a bit of pen and paper. She scribbled on it and handed it to Donna. "That's my mobile. Please call me if he wakes up. He's a pain in the arse sometimes but I really have grown to love him." Jackie looked fondly at the unconscious younger Doctor.

"Of course." Donna took the slip of paper and placed her hand on Jackie's shoulder for a moment and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Donna turned to the Doctor and was about to take a step towards him, but Jackie's voice caused her to turn around again.

"You aren't going to have an easy time of it if you two want to take him with you. I know you're like his parents or whatever, but, err… well, you'll see for yourselves." She slung her bag over her shoulder and picked up her umbrella. (When was the last time it rained? The pavement outside was bone-dry and the skies were clear.) "Remember, call me if he wakes up." She reminded them. Looking at the Doctor, she smiled, "It was nice to see you again, you plum." She said, using her typical nickname for him, and left the room.

"What do you think that meant?" Donna asked the Doctor after she'd gone.

"I don't know, she always calls me that."

"Not that," Donna admonished, "I meant what do you think she meant by having a tough time getting him to come with us?"

"Not sure." The Doctor stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Come here, Donna. I've been thinking about his condition. He only has one heart, he-"

"Oliver, Doctor. His name is Oliver." Donna interrupted.

"Right, sorry." He looked embarrassed for a moment. "Oliver only has one heart, and being half Time Lord no doubt complicated his regeneration, a regeneration I might point out, wasn't even supposed to be possible. His Time Lord genes aren't able to function as they should, they need a boost, a little nudge. They lack the development of a proper Time Lord. Even you are more developed since you spend all of your time with me."

"The Time Lord in you feeds into the Time Lady in me and vice versa. Right, I got that bit. What I don't understand is how that relates to Oliver…"

The Doctor demonstrated his idea by lifting a corner of the covers, inviting her to enter beside Oliver.

"Ahh," Donna says as it makes perfect sense.

Just as before, the closer they are, the stronger they are. The Doctor adds, "Even with this world's advanced technology, there's nothing a human can do for him. He needs his Time Lord mother and father."

She laid down beside him, and the Doctor laid on the other, sandwiching Oliver between them. His skin was as hot as Donna's earlier, and he looked pale. Donna settled Oliver's head on her shoulder and held him close, breathing in deep. The Doctor scooched closer and allowed his hand to rest on the back of Oliver's head. He watched the sleeping boy, ruminating on things that Donna could see reflected in his eyes, a tear forming in one of them. Being so close to him after so much yearning and hoping was more overwhelming than the Doctor anticipated. He was this close to Jenny when she died in his arms. Being close to someone he loved was always accompanied by the thought that it might not last forever.

She reached across Oliver's body to wipe the Doctor's tear away with her thumb, leaving her hand against his cheek for a moment. The Doctor turned his lips towards her palm and placed a grateful kiss there. She would always be there to understand him.

Hours later:

The Doctor was the only one awake. Donna had fallen asleep an hour ago, and their son hadn't stirred at all. He felt like he could stay like this for hours, just watching over his family as they slept peacefully. In this moment, it was the calm before the storm.

"You left me." Came the voice from beside him. He looked down in surprise to find Oliver had woken up.

"You're awake!" the Doctor whispered, astonished, but aware of Donna's slumber and reluctant to wake her prematurely. The human Donna loved to sleep, and being part Time Lady didn't have much of an effect on that.

"You abandoned me before I could tell you." His voice was raspy, dry and low from days of non-use.

"I'm sorry, Oliver." The Doctor responded honestly.

"It was never decided properly. It was never discussed with me. I should have known. You and her always running about doing whatever you want with no regard for anyone or anything." He spoke in a sour tone of voice, sharply jerking his head towards Donna, who still lay sleeping.

"That's not true – your mother and I rescue plenty of civilizations and creatures from all over the universe, and most times it's not even on purpose. We don't turn away from the opportunity to help someone, it just happens."

"Bollocks! You turned away from me, and that's the truth."

"Oi," Donna complained sleepily at the volume of his latest shouted swear word, then realized who the voice belonged to that caused her to rouse, "Oh my God, Oliver!" she gasped.

"You thought Rose would be good for me, and maybe I thought that too, but what I really needed was to be around people like me. I needed my parents." he accused crossly, pointedly ignoring Donna.

Donna pushed herself away slightly so she could get a better look at Oliver, seemingly disbelieving that he was angry with them. She looked at the Doctor's grim expression, which told her that this was really the way their reunion was going.

"I did what I thought was best at the time. I had other things to worry about." The Doctor weakly defended, darting his eyes towards Donna at the mention of 'other things.'

"That's another thing!" Oliver added, turning his head to Donna, looking up at her with eyes filled with confusion and hurt, "you didn't do anything. You were the first person I interacted with when I was born, the first person I trusted, and you let me go like I didn't matter at all."

"I know, and I'm so sorry. If I could go back in time and do things differently I would, believe me. You do matter to me, that's why I'm here, that's why we're both here." Donna emphasized by pointing her finger between herself and the Doctor.

Oliver scoffed. Now Donna knew what Jackie had been referring to. Oliver was never going to go with them back to the Tardis willingly. All visions of her, the Doctor, and Oliver traveling around all of space and time quickly dissolved into smoke.

A tension-laden silence filled the room, and Donna scooted off the bed. "Listen, I'm going to find a nurse to tell them you're awake. Please calm down, alright darling?"

"Don't call me that." he sneered, "Don't call me any pets names. You don't get to do that."

Donna inhaled sharply, which the Doctor picked up on. His hearts were breaking for her.

Outside the room, Donna dialed Jackie to let her know that Oliver was awake, and then retrieved a nurse. She re-entered the room to find the Doctor gazing absently out of the large window, and Oliver sat up in the bed.

The nurse checked him over while Donna approached the Time Lord. "You alright?" she whispered to him, grabbing onto his arm.

"Are you kidding?" he breathed on a shattered breath. "This is my fault. I should never have left him. The pain you're feeling now is my fault, too."

"Stop it." Donna hissed. "You don't get to put this all on you, Martian man. I was by your side when we left that beach, remember?"

The Doctor looked down at his shoes sheepishly and said nothing, mostly because the nurse approached them, but also because there wasn't much else he could say to refute what was the truth.

"Excuse me, sorry," the nurse greeted in a quiet, polite voice, the clip in her brunette ponytail to hold her bangs to the side reflecting the fluorescent light from above, "I'm afraid you'll have to leave the room."

"Is Oliver alright?" the Doctor asked, as both he and Donna looked over to Oliver who lay with his head turned away from them.

"Oh, yes, the patient's vitals are in good shape." She said with a thumbs-up gesture and a smile, which vanished in the next moment. "The doctor will probably run a few more tests, but the patient will probably be going home very soon. He did request you both leave the room, which is why I've had to ask you to step out." She informed them.

"Oh." the Doctor responded blankly, looking sadly at Oliver, who still lay turned away from them. "Come on, Donna." he dragged her away as she numbly followed. As they entered the hall, Donna twisted herself around, nearly losing her grip on the Doctor's hand, to look at Oliver. They'd made eye contact, and Donna tried to simultaneously read him and send her own brain waves across the channel they were supposed to be connected through, but there was no success.

They were sitting in the waiting room. Donna was trying with all her might to make a mental connection with Oliver, but it was like trying to connect to the internet through a broken router. Anything Donna sent out just bounced right back.

"He won't let me in." Donna said, upset and frustrated.

"I know." the Doctor responded from beside her, grabbing onto her hand.

"What do you mean?" she questioned.

"I'm 100% Time Lord, the connection was automatic as soon as we got here."

"You've been mentally connected this entire time?"

"Well, since he woke up. Don't worry Donna, I wouldn't lose all hope yet."

Donna was about to ask what he meant by that, but in that moment both Jackie and Rose entered the room, and walked towards them. The Doctor and Donna stood to meet them, and the eye contact between the four of them made for a tense moment, though Jackie smiled gratefully at Donna for having contacted her so promptly.

Rose approached the Doctor, eyeing him up with slightly parted lips, "It really is you. I didn't believe it when mum told me."

The Doctor didn't have anything to say, he was frightened by the star-struck look in Rose's eyes, and his fear only grew when she enveloped him in a fierce hug, one which he returned very reservedly.

Rose began to cry, whimpering, "I missed you so much."

When Rose separated herself from the Doctor, she looked at Donna, noticing her for the first time.

"You're travelling with him?" Rose asked, quite rudely. She skipped over a 'hello' or 'nice to see you' and went straight for the information she wanted most.

"Bit more than that, Rose." The Doctor answered before Donna could speak, wanting to be the one to inform her of the relationship he shared with Donna. "We're married."

Rose was visibly and audibly gutted. Donna didn't like Rose one bit, but seeing her sudden devastation managed to make her wish the Doctor hadn't been so blunt.

"Look, what's most important now is Oliver, right?" Donna interjected, recognizing fury brewing in Rose's eyes. "Why don't you and your mum see him." She met Jackie's eyes, who was nodding in agreement as she practically dragged Rose away.

When they were out of view, Donna brought the previous conversation back to life. "What did you mean, Doctor? Why shouldn't I lose hope?"

"He needs us and he knows it. He's a confused, angry teenager, but I can still feel a part of him that wants us in his life. There's a part of him that wants to get to know us. He almost wants it as badly as we do, he just won't admit or accept it yet."

She nearly wept for joy in that moment, but she couldn't – she knew that establishing a relationship would be difficult, especially since Oliver was steadfast maintaining the mental boundary between her and him. All she wanted was to comfort and nurture him, so to be kept far away was hurting her deeply. Still, she worried more for what Oliver was feeling. She wanted him to know that she would never leave him again, that she would make up for lost time and then some, if given half the chance. She wanted him to know how sorry she was for not being there when he needed her.

They were waiting for Jackie and Rose to come out of the room. Donna had gone to get coffee for everyone, and a banana for the Doctor. She hadn't planned on it, but it was sitting there in the basket near the register.

When she came within view, the Doctor rose to his feet to help her with the coffees. Four of them sat snugly in a tray, a bright yellow banana tucked in between them, and another coffee for herself in her other hand.

"Thanks." She said as he took the tray from her hand and sat it on the side table.

"Have they come out yet?" she asked.

"No, not yet." He sighed, peeling the banana and offering her the first bite, to which she denied. She periodically sipped her coffee as they continued to wait.

"You feeling alright?" the Doctor asked, and Donna knew he was worried about the link between her and Oliver, and the symptoms of regeneration sickness she had felt earlier on the Tardis.

"Yeah, I guess so." She shrugged, and the Doctor placed his hand upon her knee.

The banana peel was a darker shade of brown as it sat in the bin by the time Rose and Jackie emerged. Rose hung back while Jackie came forward.

"He wants to see you." She said to the Doctor. He stood while Donna stayed seated. She was about to wish the Doctor luck, but Jackie added, "You too, Donna. He wants to see both of you."

"Oh." Donna said, surprised. "Thank you." She stood from her chair. "There's a coffee for both of you, might be a bit cool now but it's there." She picked one out of the tray to bring to Oliver.

"Thanks, Donna." Jackie said gratefully as she plucked a paper cup out of the cardboard holder.

Donna smiled at her, then looked at Rose, eyes glued to the Doctor's form. It looked like she was waiting for a gun shot at the beginning of a race so she could charge forward at him.

"Let's go, Donna." the Doctor said, placing his hand on Donna's back and rubbing it gently as he led her away. Rose watched the display with obvious disdain.

Just outside the door, Donna pulled back, a look of panic on her face. "I think you should go in alone. I don't know what to say."

"Jackie said he wants to see both of us. We've wanted this for so long, this could be our first chance to start patching things up." He was surprised by Donna's reluctance, and expected her to jump at the chance to talk to Oliver.

"I don't know. I think you should go first. I'll wait here for a bit."

The Doctor looked at her quizzically, but then she pleaded, "Please?"

"Alright, but if you're not in there in five minutes I'm coming out to get you."

Donna nodded and swallowed thickly. She leaned against the wall outside Oliver's hospital door as the Doctor turned the handle and disappeared inside.

"Hello, Oliver." He greeted.

"Hello." He returned simply.

"Jackie said you wanted to see us." The Doctor took relaxed steps forward.

"Where's Donna?"

"She'll be in soon. She just needed a moment to herself." He stood at the edge of the bed, looking down at the young man.

"Oh." he seemed disappointed.

"You probably have questions."

"You bet I do." He replied with a spark of attitude that reminded the Doctor of Donna, and he barely contained a smirk. He dragged two chairs over to the bedside, one for himself, and one for Donna.

"Do you want to start?" the Doctor offered. Oliver eyed him for a moment. He could feel the connection between him and the Doctor, and the guilt the Doctor harbored floated into Oliver's mind. The Doctor didn't know it was seeping out, and Oliver felt some of the guilt wash over himself. He was suddenly ashamed at the way he behaved earlier, but wasn't ready to vanquish the angst.

"You and Donna thought leaving me with Rose was a good idea, why? Why didn't you want me?"

The Doctor's hearts constricted. "It wasn't that we didn't want you, that was never it. Your mother, Donna, was having a crisis, do you remember?"

"It's a little foggy, but yes, I think so."

"I didn't have enough time to figure out a way to make you happy, to make Rose happy, and to save Donna in the amount of time I had before the walls between worlds closed. I had to compromise the situation, and I shouldn't have." The Doctor looked at the blanket for a moment before continuing. "I realize now that I should have found a way, I should have thought more about what I was doing when I left you there, and I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am for having done it."

Oliver swallowed, trying to hold back tears, feeling the sincerity in his own mind of his father's words, "I know."

"I thought I was leaving you with a new family, with Rose, Jackie, and Pete. I thought you would adjust."

"I did because I had no choice. I had no place else to go. I couldn't be where I wanted to be."

There was a soft knock on the door before it opened and Donna peered inside. "Can I come in?"

The Doctor simply held out his hand for her and she nervously walked over, rubbing the sweat from her palms on her jeans before taking his hand and sitting beside him. Oliver continued, barely flicking his eyes over at Donna. She awkwardly held the cup of coffee in her hand, unsure of how to hand it over. She passed it to the Doctor, who placed it on the table by Oliver's bed, pushing it to him.

He looked at it, and looked at Donna, who quickly averted her gaze. He wanted to take a sip, but he knew it would be a sign that would signify he was going to forgive her, and he was nowhere near ready to do that yet, so he allowed the coffee to sit there, abandoned and ignored. He sat up in his bed and wrung his hands before going further. The floodgates were about to open.

"I stayed by Rose and held her hand because I thought she would need me. That day on the beach, I thought I could at least help her be without you even though I didn't love her. I accepted the job I was given because I didn't know what else to do. I answered her question, I told her in her ear what she wanted to hear, for her benefit, but it didn't mean that I was the one who shared those feelings. She caught on quick to that, but it didn't change anything! She insisted we stay a couple."

His tone of voice reflected his irritation. "It's all so she can have someone who looks like you. I'm not you, but she thinks of me like I am. I can't be my own person. Do you know how many times a day she calls me Doctor instead of Oliver? She does it on purpose, as if she expects me to just be another person by default, like… if she calls me Doctor enough times I'll just magically become him. Blimey!" he ended with an exasperated huff. Most of his sentences were directed at the Doctor, which Donna didn't fail to notice. There was a desire to leave the two of them alone, but the Doctor's presence in her mind said, " _Stay_."

Oliver continued, now speaking in softer tones. "I didn't think you would actually go. That day when you went inside the Tardis, I was so sure you were going to come back, change your mind, take me with you. But she disappeared, the Tardis, she flickered out of the landscape and there was nothing left but cold wind and loneliness."

Tears were flowing from his eyes. Seeing him so upset naturally made Donna cry, too, but Oliver tried to pay her no mind.

"I wanted to tell you not to go. I wanted to go with you! I didn't want to stay with her, I don't love her!"

"I know, I know." the Doctor said, standing to retrieve a tissue for him and for Donna.

"I wanted to be with my family." Oliver repeated.

"We're here now." The Doctor said, "And I'm so sorry it took us so long to get here."

"How did you even get here?" Oliver asked. "I thought travel across parallel worlds was impossible."

"It was, but Donna kept dreaming about you. She was the one who first felt how badly you needed us. It must have been about the same time as the car accident."

For the first time, he directed a question solely at Donna, "You dreamed about me?"

She had to clear her throat, not expecting the chance to say anything at all. "Yes. I felt a kind of pull, an urge. I felt… you." She finished.

"Why did you let me go? I trusted you more than anyone." Oliver asked after a moment to take in the fact that Donna had felt him in such a direct and powerful way.

"I wasn't thinking, rather I couldn't think. There was too much happening up here," she tapped her temple, "for me to realize what we were doing. It's no excuse. I was given a responsibility the day you were born and I royally screwed up. I never meant to let you down. I'm so sorry." she dissolved into tears that moment, but quickly brought herself back up.

"I never would have wanted you to be without us. You should never have been left on your own." She added, wiping tears with her fingers.

The Doctor took over, giving Donna a much needed moment to collect herself. He passes her another tissue as he continues to explain how they got there.

"I created a way for the Tardis to pass through the walls of this world without disturbing the realities. I wasn't even sure it was going to work. Then your mother got sick, as sick as you. She was feeling what you were feeling, experiencing your regeneration sickness from across worlds. For a moment I didn't think she'd make it, her fever-" he shook himself from that train of thought, and Oliver was touched by how much he cared for her. Donna reached over to grab the Doctor's hand for support, reassuring him that she was okay. Oliver watched with rapt attention. His parents weren't bad people. They apparently had an incredible capacity to care for each other, and maybe, just maybe, they could care about him like that, too.

"Anyway," the Doctor continues, "I eventually managed to get her fever under control. When we got here, both of us used our Time Lord abilities to find you, and we laid beside you to make your sickness go away. The closer we are, the quicker we get better. It's how I got Donna's fever down."

Oliver cleared his throat. "I think I want to be alone for a while." The Doctor nodded, and he helped Donna to her feet. They were pushing the chairs back when he added, "But don't go, please. Stay… nearby."

After they leave the room, Oliver reaches over for the cup of coffee and clutches it.

Jackie meets them as they reenter the waiting area, but Donna goes straight for the bathroom, wanting to wash her face before Rose can get a good look at her. "How did it go? Is she alright?" Jackie asks the Doctor, noticing Donna's swift departure.

"Oh, she'll be fine. He asked us questions, he told us how he felt about certain things. We didn't get the chance to ask him if he wanted to come along with us. He asked to be alone."

Jackie nodded understandingly, and placed a hand on his shoulder. Rose overheard what he said about travelling, and excitedly bounded up to his side.

"So does that mean you're ready to travel the stars again? Rose Tyler and the Doctor, soaring across time and space! I just _knew_ one day you'd find a way to get back to me. I could feel it in my soul, Doctor. I bet you felt it, too. So where are we going first? The forest on Diala? That really nice shopping planet with the rotating floors? Or how about night clubs across the galaxy? I know that's not your thing but I feel like-"

"I don't think so, Rose." He said delicately as he halted her speech with his own.

"Why the hell not?" her attitude changed quickly.

"Because I love Donna. We have a wonderful relationship, we're married, in case you missed that." he realized he owed her a better explanation.

"Look, when we first met, I didn't know anyone else. I wanted to have fun, and you were someone I had cared about as my ninth self. I still care about you, and I always will, but you're not the same person. Time has changed you. You were so young then, and I was reckless."

"No, no, no. You've got it all wrong. We were in love! You loved me!"

"Maybe, but I think whatever that was, was affection and companionship more than anything else. I did love you, I loved you for the innocent girl you were, but something changed in you, and you're not the same. It wouldn't have been right for me to love you anyway. It just wouldn't. We've both grown since then, and I've realized that you would never have been the one for me. I'm sorry, Rose Tyler." He gripped her hand to offer his support, but she snatched it away.

"You don't know what you're saying! That doesn't make any sense at all! You've spent too much time with that ginger tart, she's got you completely wrapped around her plump fingers. I'll fix you, Doctor." She reached up to press her hands against his face, and kissed him aggressively.

Donna rounded the corner, unseen by anyone, and witnessed the two of them locking lips, but the Doctor's hands pushed Rose by the arms off of him. She was holding onto him fiercely, and he couldn't get free.

"Rose! Stop it now!" Jackie ordered in a hushed voice.

"You love me. Say it." Rose said against his mouth, and the Doctor tried to speak in protest, but she crushed his lips with her own.

Suddenly, Rose was spun around by a pair of strong hands. "Excuse me!" the face of an irate ginger woman took up Rose's vision. "I would appreciate it if you could stop behaving so inappropriately with a married man in a public place, especially since that married man is _married_ to me!" Donna said, trying not to shout. Rose was embarrassing enough for the lot of them.

"Your days of manipulating him are over, Donna. He's not yours and he never was. You can't have him."

"I already do." Donna said, with a quirked eyebrow, showing off the band of gold around her finger.

"You've got him under mind control, you have! You're a bloody desperate woman."

Donna was about to comment on just who it was being desperate, but the Doctor began to speak now that he was able to catch his breath.

"I think for myself just as I always have. If anything, I think more clearly about things thanks to Donna. She's changed me for the better, and I don't think it's too much for me to say I've done the same for her."

"Oh, tosh! That's not true." Jackie was tugging at her daughter's arm, causing Rose to simply raise the volume of her voice. "When you go travelling, you won't be whooshing away this time without me! Even if I have to sneak on board! I'll do whatever it takes to bring you back to me." Jackie tried to drag her out of the room, but Rose was fighting back, and Jackie wasn't all that strong.

She broke free and rushed towards Donna with an angry scream, but before Donna had time to duck out of the way, the Doctor came up behind Rose and placed his fingers on her temples, catching her as she faded from consciousness.

"Let her sleep it off for a few hours." The Doctor informs Jackie. The older blonde woman turned to Donna as she addressed both she and the man in the pin-striped suit. "I am so, so sorry for this. I didn't think this would happen. I didn't think she'd get quite so wonky."

"It's alright, Jackie." Donna assured. "I'll go see Oliver, if that's alright."

Jackie nodded, unable to speak further because of how ashamed she was at the display her daughter made.

The Doctor followed Donna down the hall, but she turned to him, "Do you mind if I go in alone?"

The Doctor smiled at her, and she looked at him with a questioning expression. "Why are you grinning, Spaceman?"

"Because. Look at you, my brave Donna Noble. Not even the wrath of Rose Tyler can shake you."

"I would never give her the time of day." She winked.

"If you need me, I'll be right here." The Doctor said, firmly planting his feet in the hallway outside the door and crossing his arms.

She stepped away from the door to kiss him chastely, then knocked on Oliver's door, and ventured inside.

"I know you wanted to be alone," Donna began as she entered, "but there was something else I wanted you to know."

Donna waited for some sign of his consent before continuing.

"Well come on then, don't stand about like a nutter." Again, he sounded like her.

She pulled a chair over. "Can I?" she reached to hold onto his hand. "Please?"

Oliver nodded slightly. She ghosted her hand over his cool skin before slipping her fingers gently inside his hand, holding onto it firmly at first, then more gently.

"I know that you have contempt for me and your father, but especially me, and rightfully so. I truly can't blame you for feeling the way you feel. I know you're still thinking things over, and processing everything that's happened." Donna took a deep breath and looked Oliver right in the eyes. "I just really wanted you to know that I love you, I always have and I always will." She tightened her grasp on his hand as she told him how she felt.

"Your father loves you too, but I just needed to tell you. This way, even if you don't want to come with us, you'll know how I feel."

"You would let me travel with you?"

"Well of course! The Doctor and I want you with us more than anything. We've missed you terribly, and if you joined us, we would never stop showing you how proud we are of you, how sorry we are for doing what we did, and how spectacular the stars are. We want to take you everywhere. We can't help it, Oliver. We're your parents, and no matter what you say to us, we'll always love you."

Oliver's face wrinkled substantially as he began to sob. He couldn't hold up his hatred any longer. Finally, he would be where he belonged. Donna instinctively rose from the chair to sit on the edge of the bed, enveloping Oliver in a colossal hug, gathering him as close to herself as she could.

"Oh, sweetheart." She cooed, rocking him back and forth. "Shh, it's alright now. It's okay."

Oliver felt an incredible wave of warmth wash over him, and he realized the warmth was Donna's love. It was so strong, and there so much of it. He could barely understand how a person could harbor so much emotion for someone, let alone him.

He regretted the way he treated her earlier, and his shame made him sob all the more.

 _I'm sorry mum, I'm so sorry._

Donna gasped, "Oliver! Oh, darling!" the connection was established, she was finally able to reach into his mind and comfort him. The emotions that traveled across the pathways was so intense that the Doctor burst into the room. He felt it too, and was concerned that something had gone wrong.

"Is everyone okay?" he rushed to the bed, "What happened?"

Donna was too emotional to respond, so she simply reached for his hand and drew him into the embrace. Oliver had never felt so loved or so wanted in all the time he'd been alive.

"I'm sorry, dad." Oliver speaks, and the Doctor nearly loses his breath.

Donna sniffled, preparing to speak, "Does this mean you could forgive us?"

Oliver wiped at his nose, and Donna brushed away his tears with the tips of her fingers. "I already have." He managed, and went in for another hug.

After a few minutes of hugging and crying, Oliver asked, "How soon can we leave?"

Donna couldn't help but laugh.

"I'll find the doctor." the Doctor says, leaving the two of them alone.

As Donna begins telling Oliver stories of some of her travels with the Doctor, including the one about how she first met her Spaceman, Rose entered the room without Jackie.

"I have something to say." Her eyes were on Oliver alone.

Oliver immediately felt nervous, but comforting waves of protection and reassurance filled his mind from his mother. He hugged her close in the cuddle they'd formed.

Rose walked over to the other side of Oliver's bed and kneeled, making direct eye contact with him. "I need to tell you something important."

"What is it?" Oliver asked.

"I'm pregnant."

Donna gasps, and Oliver holds her tighter out of his own shock. However, the fear on his face soon vanishes. "You liar. We've never had sex, you can't be pregnant!"

Rose cusses under her breath. "You love me though, right? You're not going to leave me all alone. Make them take me, too." She speaks as if Donna is as translucent as the air around them.

"Fat chance!"

"What?" Rose asks, astonished.

"You don't care for me one bit. I might be part Doctor, but I'm part Donna too. Don't underestimate me. You have a bad habit of doing that, of treating me like an ape. I'm part Doctor, part Donna, and part my own unique self. If you ask me, that's quite a force of nature all wrapped up in one handsome package, so I'd be careful if I were you."

Rose was gobsmacked. He never spoke to her this way, even on the numerous times they'd engaged in arguments. He was never so bold.

"God, you're a witch. You've turned him against me, too." She said, looking at Donna with undeniable disgust. Oliver bristled, like a dog raising its hackles. _Easy there, sweetie pie. Your mum's heard worse._

Jackie ran into the room, flustered and out of breath. "I just popped to the loo, I'm sorry."

"It's alright, Jackie, no worries." Donna replied. Rose was about to speak up, but luckily the Doctor entered, accompanied by a medical doctor. The kind man went over discharging procedures, and though he was greatly astonished by Oliver's quick recovery, he was glad to see him feeling better.

"You were born to love me." Rose says to Oliver, and suddenly it's Donna's turn to raise her hackles. Neither the Doctor nor Oliver dares to stop the fountain of fury they can feel about to overflow in Donna. She stood away from Oliver and looked the Doctor in the eyes, telepathically communicating with him.

 _I'm going to say what I'm going to say, and then I'm leaving the room. Don't let Oliver be alone with her, she tried to tell him she's pregnant, and he's been through enough trauma._

 _Okay. I love you, Earthgirl._

 _I know, I love you, too, Spaceman._

"I'm sorry, Jackie." Donna said quickly before her full attention was on Rose.

"Rose Tyler, you ignorant, ill-mannered, shallow human being." Donna enunciated each word with great care.

Rose was ready with a comeback, but Donna stopped her. "No! You will let me finish, so help me."

"My son can't love someone like you. Frankly, I'd be surprised if anyone besides your poor mother could. You care for no one. You have no respect and no kindness in you, and despite how hard your mother has tried – and I know she has, because I've seen how she cares for you even when you're being a rotten brat, she cares for you – despite how hard she's tried, you _still_ are thankless and unappreciative. You ignored both the Doctor and your mum when they tried to tell you that Oliver doesn't love you, so you have no one but yourself to blame. A decent person would be glad to see someone they care about happy, and the Doctor is happy. If you cared about him, you would let him go and move on."

"You tosser! He's mine and you won't take him from me. I don't know what makes you think you have the right. The Doctor and I are meant to be together." She said haughtily.

Donna just shook her head, the Doctor stepped forward at hearing the word she used to call Donna, but Donna held him back from behind her, not letting him advance.

"And that is why part of me feels bad for you, Rose. All the people who have ever tried to help you before, all the opportunities you've had to think fondly about the places you've been, the memories you've made, and the only thing you take from the experience is your cruel, misguided, train wreck obsession with a man who loves you less and less the more you open your mouth."

Donna was finished, she took in a satisfied breath and squeezed the Doctor's outstretched hand as she was heading for the door, but then another thought struck her, so she turned around to face the young blonde again, "Oh, and if you ever, _ever,_ address my son or my husband with anything less than decency, I will knock you into next Tuesday."

Rose says nothing, even after Donna leaves the room. She looks at the Doctor, at her mother, and at Oliver for some form of defense in her favor, but no one comes to her aid. She started to cry, and bolted from the room.

Oliver gets dressed, and Jackie rings Pete to tell him to bring Oliver's things to the hospital.

It's a touching goodbye, and Jackie is left in tears. Jackie did fill the role of a mum even though Oliver looked like an adult. She always called him to see how he was doing, and invited him over for dinner, serving his favorites on a weekly basis. She defended him against Rose when they would argue, and offered him advice when he needed it.

Luckily for all of them, Rose was unconscious, thanks to the Doctor.

"Don't cry Jackie, I'll come visit. Dad's got stealth mode." Oliver assured her after she squished him in a bone-crushing embrace. It wasn't missed by Donna that Oliver spoke 'stealth mode' in the same excited voice as the Doctor had when he first thought up the title. _Like father, like son._ The Doctor mused, catching onto to what Donna was thinking.

This time, all three of them entered the Tardis (who was - of course - ecstatic to have him aboard) and they vanished from Pete's World the way it should have from the beginning – together, as a family.

* * *

 _I was really tempted to have Jackie put Rose in an institution at the end of this, but I figured I'd made her seem horrible enough… I'll clarify here that I don't hate Rose, I just don't particularly like her. The way her character was portrayed on the show really makes her seem horrible towards Donna, and in general, now that I've re-watched old episodes._

 _Anyway, hope you liked this!_


	25. Lazy Sundays

**Lazy Sundays**

Donna was in the kitchen of the Tardis washing the last of the dishes. The sentient ship would have tended to the messy plates of their brunch, but sometimes Donna insisted on completing the chore herself. She and the Doctor were having a lazy Sunday together, also per Donna's request. It wasn't even Sunday, but the Doctor learned to appreciate the concept. Lazy Sunday was fast becoming a tradition.

It wasn't easy for him at first, to surrender an entire day to unproductivity, but he was learning to embrace it. Donna would catch up on telly programs, spend time reading, she had time to cook or bake, and even go for a mid-day swim in the Tardis pool. It was lovely.

She turned the faucet handle and reached for the towel to dry her hands. She then headed to the library to find her favorite Martian. She plonked down into the cozy armchair opposite him.

"I'm going to start series 5 of The Great British Bake Off. Care to join me?"

"Absolutely." He replied with genuine interest. Sitting beside Donna on the sofa was his favorite part of lazy Sundays. She would kick off her slippers, drape a velvety throw over her legs, and he would lean back into the cushions and enjoy watching her as much as the program. None of his previous companions ever suggested these kinds of activities, and he now wondered why. The ability to be comfortable sitting close, doing nothing, yet while perfectly content, made him happy in a new way. He was beginning to realize that he wouldn't have wanted to spend these kinds of days with anyone else anyway.

After two episodes, Donna suggested a sunny stroll through the Tardis gardens. She loved being able to unwind like this; the park was inside the spaceship, so she could aimlessly wander the beautiful grounds without the threat of some unforeseen galactic catastrophe. When it came to them, disasters like that weren't hard to find when they were travelling.

They went along in silence, hand in hand, flanked on either side by trellises taken hostage by stunning damask roses, before the Doctor spoke. "I know I've said this before, but thank you for showing me the value in this, Donna."

Donna scoffed, "Oh stop, you don't need to thank me for this. Believe me," she sighed, "it's my pleasure. Nothing like a little bit of good old fashioned rest and relaxation." She took in a deep breath of the soothing floral-scented atmosphere.

"I've never done things like this before, unless I don't remember. Honest though, because of you, I feel peaceful and calm. I would never have thought to do these simple things. There's a kind of pleasure your company allows that's new to me, and you should know how much I appreciate it."

Donna smiled bashfully at his sincere compliment, gratefully leaning into his side. He simultaneously wrapped his arm around her to pull her in tighter for a quick squeeze.

"It's a mutual feeling, Doctor."

His grin grew, and they entered back into the hall of the Tardis.

"Now," Donna said, adding vibrancy to her tone, "how do you feel about Italian for dinner?"

"My mouth's watering already." He replied with a broad smile. He cheerily led her by the hand to the console room where he set the controls for Venice…

After sampling the local cuisine, taking forkfuls of each other's panzanella, carbonara, and spinach and pancetta topped pizza, sipping glasses of a very fine chianti, they hesded back home to watch more of Donna's telly program in their jim-jams. It wasn't long before Donna's head softly slid onto the Doctor's shoulder as she drifted off to a relaxed slumber. He watched her for a while, waiting for a deeper sleep to take her, before he carried her to her bed and gingerly tucked her in.

He tucked a strand of fiery hair behind her ear and whispered, "Sweet dreams, Donna" before he took to the library for some late night reading. The book was open, held in his hand, but most of the time between then and the morning was spent conjuring up ideas for their next lazy Sunday, which he reasoned, could take place tomorrow…

* * *

 _I think I might have wrote a chapter similar to this one in the past, but will any of you readers really complain? I'm banking on no, but don't let that stop you! I truly value your honesty and feedback._


	26. My Fault

_If you're happy about the Doctor whump, you_ _have_ _Ashena-Iulik_ _to thank_ _. :)_

 _By the way Ashena-Iulik, I doubt this is exactly what you had in mind, so if you're in any way disappointed, do let me know, as I'd be willing to try again. Thanks!_

 **My Fault**

Part 1

"Hey!" Donna attempts to catch his attention as he rounds the corner towards the library. "I'm not finished." She says angrily.

"Well I am! I'm not arguing over this with you. You're going to apologize to the King and that's that!" he shouted, frustrated through and through with his ginger companion.

"I did nothing wrong! And where you get off telling me what I can and cannot do like I'm some flippin' four-year-old-" she was really raging now.

"I can't help it if you act like one!" he hurled it out before he could shut his yap.

"Excuse me!? You think I act like a child?"

The Doctor clapped his hands over his face and sighed agitatedly.

"Is it because I'm just nearing forty and you're a thousand? Or is it because I'm just a stupid cow?" Donna asked with venom.

"You _aren't_ stupid, but this is! Us arguing! You should just do as I say and leave it at that." He plonked down into an oversized armchair.

"I don't know if you've realized this yet pal, but I'm Donna Noble, I walk to the beat of my own drum, thank you very much. I don't take kindly to being bossed around!" She crossed her arms and shifted her weight on her feet to jut out a defiant hip.

"Oh yeah, I got that! Clear as crystal!" he said emphatically, grunting out a humorless laugh and putting a hand against his forehead as his thoughts swarmed. He had to make her understand. "You don't get it though. What I'm telling you is for your own good."

"Doesn't seem like it to me. You haven't given me a single good reason why I should listen to you other than because you're so high and mighty." She could just about hear him in his smug thoughts add, 'And Time Lord.'

"Alright, okay. How about this: you have to apologize; by not putting your saliva into his hand you could literally start a war! There are serious consequences here!"

Donna deflated slightly, just as tired of the bickering as he was. If it were anyone else, she would go all night, but this was her best mate, and she hated arguing with him. She raked her palms down her face. "I didn't think it would matter that much, you should know that swapping spit isn't exactly customary between humans, therefore I wouldn't approach the opportunity with much enthusiasm, especially with an alien frog-King! All green, and slimy, and… wart-y. And that tongue…" She shivered in disgust at the thought.

The Doctor looked at her with more understanding, because she did have an honest point. "Okay, I grant you that, but you still have to apologize. If you don't, they're going to want to punish you."

" _Punish_ me?" Now she looked slightly frightened. "B-but it was a misunderstanding."

"Yes, a big one at that, but it's how their society works. They'll punish you for your crime against his Majesty. I don't want to tell you how they'll do it, I don't want to put those images in your head."

"Alright, alright. I'll apologize. I didn't intend to offend anyone by keeping my spit to myself, honest. Share your toys, share your food, but I was never taught to share my bodily fluids…"

The Doctor smiled, "I know, I know. Come on, let's go make this right." He rose from the chair and extended his hand to her, and they soon left the Tardis hand-in-hand.

They approached the gates of the frog-King's palace – they were covered in aquatic plants – vines that wove round the bars and hid the golden gleam beneath from sight. Green leaves peppered the expanse of the gate. The effect didn't make the area seem run-down or dodgy in any way, rather the leaves and vines made for a natural, vegetal appearance.

Once the Doctor and Donna were welcomed into the court, they both bowed. The King (really, a giant frog) sat on his throne made of tree trunks, a lily pad as his seat cushion, and waited as patiently as possible.

With a nudge from the Doctor, Donna stepped forward with a nervous smile. She bowed, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"Pardon me, your grace." Again she bowed. "I stand before you to offer a sincere apology for failing to deliver my… saliva, earlier today. I would like to offer it to you now, to make up for my terrible, unintended error." She was about to spit into her own hand, but the King's arm waved at her.

"There is no need." He said simply, in a deep voice, punctuating the statement with a muffled 'ribbet.'

"Is my apology accepted then? No hard feelings?" she added with an anxious laugh and a half-hearted punch to the air.

"Hear me, foreigners. Your offer is appreciated and acknowledged, as is your bravery for entering into the royal court, but forgiveness you shall not have. I sentence you to be punished according to our government, and then you may go as freely as you came."

Guards were approaching from either side, and Donna looked frantically at the Doctor behind her, who also looked worried. He thought her apology would excuse her of her crime. This was not part of the plan.

"Hang on a tic!" the Doctor interjected without a trace of worry or alarm in his tone. "Let me go in her place. You'll find she will be much more distraught if I am to receive her punishment on her behalf."

"I do not understand." The King said.

"No, you can't!" Donna whispered to the Doctor, and he flicked his gaze at her for just a moment.

"Yes your honor, it's true." The Doctor continued, "Take me in her place and you'll see for yourself just how upset she gets. It's a human thing, they can't help it!" he sounded more enthused than he should, given the circumstances.

The King pondered the Doctor's proposition for a moment, "Very well. Though this is not customary, I am intrigued by your proposal. It shall be granted." The Doctor turned to Donna and winked as guards resumed their approach, only now they were aiming for the Doctor, not her.

As his arms were pinned behind him, he told her seriously, "Get to the Tardis, you'll be safe there in case the old coot changes his mind."

"No, I won't! You can't do this, that's not fair!" she pleaded.

"I promise, I'll meet you there. You can put the kettle on for when I get in." he grinned, and was then ushered out of the room before she could protest further. As he was swept out of the room, he was glad she wouldn't have to see what was about to happen.

The slimy green-skinned guards led him down a hallway to a room with one small window on its single door, barred with three branches instead of steel. The door itself was wooden, so the sonic would not be an option.

It opened, and he was pushed inside. The sliver of light that entered in through the window of the door illuminated the tall stake in the center of the room. He could hear another door opening, but could not see where it was; the edges of the room were cast in an inky black shadow.

A large creature walked over, some sort of bullfrog hybrid based on the creature's size and appearance, and tied him to the stake. With his hands tied, he was starting to feel anxious about accepting Donna's punishment – he wouldn't have changed his mind for anything now, but his nerves were beginning to tingle in the way anyone's would.

There really was no plan, but to take the reprimand head-on and be done with it. At least that was the thought running through Donna's mind as she peered in through the window of the door. She stood out in the hallway, unnoticed. There was a window in the hallway that was unlocked, so she had let herself in. She tried the door, keeping quiet, but it was locked. She thought about calling over to distract the guards, but then she reasoned it would only get the both of them in even more trouble. This was apparently the only way.

The bullfrog man was three times her size, and as he lifted a large club over his shoulder, she all but stifled her own gasp as it swung down towards the Doctor's torso. He let out a grunt as it made contact, and Donna narrowed her eyes. Another swing, and another swing. And another. And another.

She couldn't take it! He was being walloped with a tree limb and she was just standing by keeping count; but just as she was about to intervene, the bullfrog man lowered the club to the ground, and left the room.

The Doctor was left alone in the column of light, heaving for breath. His head slumped forward in exhaustion, pain clearly written all over his face.

'This is all my fault,' Donna thought. She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. 'How could I let them do that to him?' Her arguing earlier had put him through enough, now he had to deal with this… she couldn't imagine how much worse things were about to get.

Guards were entering – she could hear their voices – so she scrambled back to the open window, and waited at the gates for the Doctor.

"I believe I am now free to go!" the Doctor called out against the pain radiating through his voice, still tied to the stake.

A door opened, the same one he couldn't see the first time, and the creak ricocheted against the walls of the cell.

This time the figure that approached him was smaller, and was peeling a paper like a band-aid. The creature placed a patch onto the Doctor's neck before he could ask a question.

Then, his hands were released, and the door was open to him. His stomach ached from the beating, and he had no idea what the patch was for – he thought maybe a sticker of proof that he was a free prisoner. He walked down the halls in a daze, just hoping to remember the way out of the palace.

He eventually stumbled through the vine-entwined gates, where he was met by a ginger woman who was incredibly relieved to see him. He jumped back in surprise as she threw her arms around him, though the embrace didn't last more than half a second – she relinquished her hold on him when she realized the agonizing ache he must be feeling.

"Sorry, I hope that didn't hurt. Are you alright?" before he can answer, she helps him by taking his arm to support him, as he is unsteady on his own. She puts a hand against his cheek and looks in each of his eyes. "Look what they did to you, oh my poor Spaceman. I'm so sorry."

The Doctor looked at her suddenly with a furrowed brow, as if he was taken aback by her presence.

"Who the heck are you?" he wrenched away from her, though he shouldn't have, since he could barely stay balanced.

She was stunned by his reaction, but moved closer to steady him anyway. "I beg your pardon?"

"Who are you? I don't know you. Why'd you call me Spaceman?" He is leaning away from her, but she holds on cautiously.

"It's me, it's Donna. I'm your friend, we travel together." Seeing no recollection in his eyes, she ventured the question, "You don't remember me?"

"Well no, but it all sounds sort of right, so let's just go with it." Finally he allowed himself to be guided by her, letting her support some of his weight as they continued to walk along. For some reason, trusting this strange woman did not feel wrong or dangerous to him at all. Donna would have made a remark about his trust in her being a mistake, as all she managed to do was anger a frog-King and get him beaten in her place, but, for obvious reasons, she decided against it.

"What did they do to you?" she looks at him with concerned eyes.

"Don't worry about me Dana, let's just get to the… to the…"

"To the Tardis." She finished for him. "And it's Donna, not Dana." She added with a scrunched up nose in disdain for being called the wrong name.

"Right, sorry."

"No worries mate, let's just get you home, yeah?"

"Whatever you say, Dana."

"It's Donna!" she grumbled.

A few minutes of walking in silence go by, and the Tardis is soon in sight. Donna can feel the Doctor getting heavier in her grasp. "Doctor, are you alright?"

"Hmm?" he sounds drowsy.

"Well don't fall asleep! We're nearly there." She begged, but it was no use, as the Doctor slipped to the ground.

"Doctor?" she shook him gently, but he was definitely out cold.

"Oh great, and here I thought those nights were behind me." She said to herself, remembering all the times she had to half carry, half drag, Nerys or some other friend home from the pub on wild Saturday nights.

She propped him up against the side of the Tardis while she fished out her key. Once open, she looked down at the Doctor before picking him up, his hair was flat and disheveled, and he was sweating and breathing quickly. "Well that's not right, is it. Let's get you to the med-bay. Maybe you'll need more than a healing sleep." Realizing she didn't know much about what was inside the medical bay, she glanced up at the ceiling, Doctor in arms, "You wouldn't be willing to help me, would you, dear?"

The lights flickered and Donna knew she wouldn't be alone (even before she asked). She grinned in gratitude as she headed down the hall. Again, she looked down at the Doctor, a crumpled heap in her arms. An intense fear rose in her that he might not be alright, but she feverishly crammed it back into the box it sprung out of, not willing to let herself be taken over by feelings like that of any sort. Her main focus was getting the Doctor back to his tip-top shape.

She laid him down on an empty bed and smoothed the hair out of his face. A beeping noise stole her attention, luring her to a monitor beside the bed that blinked to life like a television being switched on.

"What have we got here?" she peered at it while the screen scrolled through a seemingly long list of things she didn't understand – images, symbols, charts, and words, all in Gallifreyan. Finally the screen stilled, and a digital replication of the Doctor appeared. The image swiveled the Doctor figure to the side, and zoomed in on a spot on his neck. A little square patch was outlined in a red flashing line.

"What's that? I can't read that." she frowned. The floor vibrated beneath her feet, the Tardis telling her to 'hang on a moment' in her own special way. The screen altered and soon normal words, English words, replaced the elegant swirls.

 _Item detected (foreign): Poison Patch_

 _Description: This patch is designed to create confusion in its victim. It causes alternating states of delirium and coherency, and facilitates amnesia-like symptoms. Victims may forget family members, events, day to day knowledge, and their own identities. In some cases, memory lapse is permanent. Upon removal of the patch, a virus will infect the host and destroy the body it inhabits. The virus is aggressive. There is no known cure. 98% of victims do not recover from the virus._

 _Planet of origin: Unknown_

 _Fatal: Yes_

 _Treatment: Removal of patch. Endure virus._

"Bloody hell!" she shrieked. She ran a rake of fingers through her hair. "Why couldn't it have been enough to get the crud beat out of you, why'd they have to slap on a poison patch?" she spoke in frustrated tones, glaring intensely at the image of the patch.

She turned to the Doctor's prone form and bent down to get a look at area of his neck where the patch was. She ran a finger over the surface cautiously. It was like a plastic band-aid. She caressed the edge of it before trying to slip a nail between his flesh and the patch. She only tugged a tiny bit before the Doctor started to snuffle.

"Donna?" came his drowsy voice. His eyes blinked open and the pair of them sleepily located his ginger-haired companion beside him. She remained at his level, still crouched near his neck. She offered a sympathetic grin as she placed her hand on his forehead in a soothing gesture. "Hello, Spaceman. Do you feel alright?"

"Erm… bit tired. Okay, I'm truly knackered. But how did I get in the med-bay? What happened?"

"They took you away, remember? They put something on your neck and I have to get it off. It's very important, understand? Stay still." she explained in soothing tones, moving her arm forward towards the patch. Suddenly, the Doctor gasped, before she was even able to make contact with his flesh.

He lunged over the side of the table, flopping onto the floor with a thud.

"Doctor!" Donna cried, rushing over to help him.

"Donna, get down!" he grabbed hold of her arm and yanked it so she would be hidden safely behind the medical bed.

"What the devil are you playing at? You're not well!" Donna asked angrily.

"They're back, and we have to stay far away. They'll get us if we don't." he was petrified – his eyes were wide and though he barely kept still, Donna could swear the poor man was trembling. His chest heaved rapidly.

"Doctor," Donna started, peering over the bed to scan the room, "there's no one there. It's safe, I promise."

"No," he yanked her by the arm, "I don't know how, but they've returned! Can't you see, Donna? They'll find us if you don't be quiet. They're right there." He pointed a finger around the bed, where a shadow might be if something truly had been approaching.

"Honestly, I wouldn't let anything happen to you, and neither would the Tardis. If something were on board, we would know. It's just the patch getting to you. The poison is in your system, which is why you have to let me-"

"Run!" The Doctor bolted from the floor and scampered out of the medical bay into the hall before Donna had the chance to finish her sentence. His demand sounded so fearful, and yet as Donna stood in the silent, vacant room, her perplexity at the situation only grew. There truly was no one in the room besides herself. She trotted down the halls in search of the Doctor.

"Doctor, please! You're not well, please come out now." She called.

A hand was gripping her shoulder and she found herself being flung to one side of the wall, a weight pressing her flat against the Tardis interior. "Oi!" she instinctively protested, adding a shove. Once she got a good look at her attacker, she noticed it was the very man she had been looking for.

"There you are! What's the big idea, what did you run off like that for?"

"Are you one of them? Did they get to you?" He looked closely at her, so close they were practically rubbing noses. "You're not Donna." His tone was low and unnerving. It barely sounded like the Doctor. His features were stony and devoid of any emotion. He looked severe.

"Don't be daft. Of course it's me." His face and gaze did not alter, he was not convinced. "Hey, Doctor, it's me, it's Donna."

His grip tightened on her arm and she winced. "You're hurting me now. Let me go." Donna tried to free herself from his grasp but it was sturdy as iron.

"Doctor, please!" There was a flicker in his eyes when her tone took on a pleading note. She was begging for him to recognize her.

He wrenched himself away, all the way to the opposite side of the hall. She stood up and rubbed her arm to console the ache that was there, and took steps closer to the Doctor. She didn't want him to run again. She _still_ had to remove the poison patch.

"Donna… I'm sorry." There he was. She could see that he had gained composure of himself, and he looked so sad. Donna sighed in relief.

"Look, let me take the patch off your neck, and you can get yourself to bed to rest." She closed the distance between them cautiously, but he only continued to frown and look sorrowfully at her. She gently tilted his head to the side to access the patch. The Doctor closed his eyes and advised her, "Don't rip it off, go slow."

"Are you sure? I was thinking the quicker the better."

"No, definitely go slow. These patches are designed to reinforce the adhesive if the detachment is abrupt. As soon as it's off, stick it to the wall. You don't want to give that thing a chance to infect you. Once it's on the wall, the Old Girl will absorb it and take care of the rest."

"Easy peasy, eh?" She picked up a corner very delicately. "You ready?"

The Doctor hummed his reply, and Donna gingerly pulled away the patch. She was patient and tender as can be. Once free from the Doctor's skin, she slapped it onto the wall, and they both watched it dissolve into the Tardis.

"Come on, let's get you to bed, mister." Donna reached out to him, and he leaned into her. His energy was drained, poor thing.

"It's going to happen again." He said, eyes low to the ground.

"What will?" Donna's brow crinkled with concern.

"The state of delirium I was in. The poison worked its way deep into my system, there's enough inside me to spark at least one if not two more waves of confusion. After each one, there will be a period of rest, which is what this is, right now. After that,"

"The virus hits." She finished for him. "But you'll be alright, won't you? There ain't no one made of tougher space stuff than you." She squeezed him, and he weakly grinned. He looked at her as they continued to walk, and wondered just how he would thank his wonderful companion for taking care of him. His best mate.

"When did that happen?" the Doctor asked aloud in a different tone of voice, and Donna had a sinking feeling in her core that something bad was about to happen.

"What?" she asked.

"My hand! My hand is gone!" he noticed frantically, waving his arm up and down without recognizing the attached hand and all five fingers.

"It's not gone, I promise! Look, I'm holding it. See? There. It's okay now." She had grabbed onto his hand and held it in a hand-shake gesture. She placed her other hand on top of his as well, to emphasize that she was in fact grasping it.

"Donna, you're insane. Lost your marbles. You're grabbing at air. There's nothing there!"

"Just trust me, alright? You said this would happen." she was trying ambitiously to keep him calm.

"No I didn't, I never said that." he denied vehemently, eyebrows sky-high and pupils wide as the sea.

"Let's just have a lie-down. Come with me."

"You seem to be forgetting that I have no hand." he reminded her flatly.

"Put it out of your mind and follow me." She gently tugged on his arm but he wouldn't budge. She sighed and rolled her eyes, "You don't need a hand to have a kip."

He didn't reply, though he did follow her. She brought them to the library, where the fire kept the room well-lit and warm. The couch looked cozier than usual with the added allure of soft pillows and velvety blankets.

She sat the Doctor down on the couch and eased him into a reclined position. He kept his eyes open as though he expected something to startle him. He looked over his shoulder and took turns looking at all the parts of the room his vision couldn't see at one time.

Donna tucked the blanket up around him, and as she smoothed down the edges, he said suddenly, "I don't think this is real."

Donna blinked, "What? Of course this is real. I'm real. You're real. This moment is real. It's all real. Please, you're going to worry yourself sick. Just sleep, give the poison a chance to work itself out of your system."

He didn't look persuaded by any means.

Donna kneeled beside the couch, and the Doctor leaned his head to match her gentle gaze. "Close your eyes and repeat after me. It's a little something I do when I can't turn my mind off at night. My gran taught me when I was a kid and it's a marvelous remedy. It'll help you settle down and relax."

"Okay."

"Close your eyes." She instructed kindly. His lids slid down obediently. "Repeat after me: There once was a man named Bill, he lived on top of the hill. He watched the sky both day and night, except for the time he was ill."

"There once was a man named Bill, he lived on top of the hill." The Doctor recited. "He watched the sky, both day and night, except for the time he was ill."

"Again."

"There once was a man named Bill, he lived on top of the hill. He watched the sky, both day and night, except for the time he was ill."

"Now keep going for as long as you can. Don't try too hard though, let sleep take you when you feel too tired." Donna spoke low, whispering. They recited the phrase together for the first few times, before Donna let him continue on his own. She stayed with him until he started to snore softly.

"Well Old Girl, I suppose now's as good as time as any to make a nice cuppa. We got any pastries in?" she asked aloud once she had tip-toed out into the hallway. She planned on bringing in a cup of tea for the Doctor too, and a plate piled high with his favorite treats.

He was feeling peaceful, blissfully lost in an abyss somewhere in the depths of his mind. There was no pain of the past haunting his thoughts, and he didn't long for a single thing. There was no wrong he wanted to right, no civilization to rescue, or mission to embark on. Everything was tranquil and resolved.

" _Doctor! Do something!"_

That voice. He knew that voice.

" _Help me, please! Don't let them hurt me!"_

That voice was screaming now. It shattered the silent tomb he was drifting in. He shook himself out of his daydream and focused on her cries for help.

He ran to the door with the bars like branches, and peered into to the shadow infested room. There she was, in the center, tied to the stake in the ground. Her shoulders caved in on her chest, and her feet were out in front of her, propelling herself backwards though she couldn't get away.

The bullfrog hybrid raised the club, and with a grunt of exerted energy, sent it crashing into her torso.

This is what was real. He felt it certainly. However, knowing it was real did not make it better.

Again and again her midriff took a beating. Her ribs and chest being smashed and pounded. Finally he couldn't restrain himself, and he hollered for them to stop. It wasn't supposed to be this way – he was supposed to be the one in there, taking the pain and agony she was now overwhelmed with.

They ignored him, and the blows kept falling. He kept thinking, 'surely this is the last one' but more and more violent blows would follow. Eventually her cries and grunts of pains diminished to inaudible winces and grimaces, until finally there seemed to be no reaction at all. She slumped against the single stake in a pile of flesh, bones, and vibrant red hair.

The hybrid creature finally gave up his attack, and exited the room. The door with the barred window opened on its own, and he rushed to her.

He can see the blood glistening against the pale light that the shadows cannot swallow up. He can see the stillness of her body, and the lack of air entering and leaving her lungs. There was not an ounce of life within her. He pushed some of her hair to the side, brushing the surface of her still-warm skin. Her body did not resist as he gathered her in his arms.

There's nothing left. His Donna was dead. He had lost her for good this time. He feels dreadful, an awful weight swells in his hearts and the whole universe stops.

He wakes up in the library.

'Must have dozed off' he thinks. He scans the room, and knows that Donna won't be there. He remembers now.

Sitting up, he places his elbows on his knees and cradles his head in his hands. 'How could I have done that? How could I let them take her away? My Donna, my best friend.'

Abandoning his perch on the sofa's edge, and against the urging of the Tardis, he goes to her room.

Standing in the doorway, he surveys the bedroom that he already knows will never be touched, changed, or cleared away. He walked in, taking slow steps. He trailed a hand atop her dresser, looking at the pictures and various items she kept there. There was one of the two of them – a great one – and falling on her bed was all he could do to keep him from collapsing on the floor. He sobbed heartily, letting out all manner of noise and woe escape him. He grabbed onto her pillow and screamed into it.

* * *

 _To be continued…_


	27. My Fault Part 2

**My Fault**

Part 2

She placed a well-domed banana nut muffin on the plate atop the tray, beside a steaming cup of tea, and lifted the tray by its side handles. She was heading back to the library where the Doctor rested.

She felt like a terrible best mate. The Doctor had amnesia, got poisoned and beaten, and it was all her fault. She should have listened to him from the beginning. When he first tried to convince her to apologize to the Frog King, she should have just done it.

If… no, _when_ , he gets better, how will he ever forgive her? He seemed to always have to get her out of trouble. He was always the one who crafted the master plan that would save the universe. He cared so much for every creature in the galaxies, and this is what she gave him? Amnesia, a poison patch, and a beating? Who cares if he's Time Lord and will heal faster, this is just one more thing he has to go through and deal with, and recover from, and it's because of her.

How could she let herself be responsible for some of the worst trouble they've ever been in? Trying not to overwhelm herself anymore with thoughts like that, she backed up into the library door to enter hands-free. She turned around to find that the library was empty. No Doctor in sight. He was asleep when she left him, and she hadn't been gone that long, so where could he be?

"Help me, please. Where has he gone?" she pleads to the ceiling, and the Tardis instantly flickers to her aid, lighting the halls to lead Donna to her bedroom door. She abandoned the tray of tea and treats, following the pulsing glow along the floor. All the while her adrenaline races through her veins, her heart pounding in time with the pounding of her feet against the ground.

Without another moment of thought, she bursts through the door, afraid of what she'll find. It took her by surprise to see that he was just sleeping. There were tears dried to his face, and she didn't understand. His eyes looked wrinkled at the edges, more so than normal, as if whatever had made him upset, had aged him somehow.

"Thanks, Old Girl." Donna whispers, then kneels at her own bedside. The Doctor's back is facing her, so she places her hand upon it and smooths circles on it. "Doctor?" she calls softly, "Can you hear me?"

He turns over to her slowly. "It's you." He says, surprised to see her. His eyes are wide and his expression is one of disbelieving.

Donna smiles, unknowing of the turmoil that the Doctor is in. "Yes, it's me. I'm right here." She lifts herself to perch on the bedside.

His face crumples. "I'm so sorry, Donna." He curls into her torso and begins sobbing. At first, Donna can only return the embrace, encircling his trembling form within her arms and smoothing down the hair on the back of his head.

"What's the matter? You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for." She spoke tenderly, trying to get him to look at her with no success.

He ignores her, and gently squeezes her arms and hands, firmly clasping her fingers against his cheeks. "You're so real."

"Of course I am." She says, unsure of how else to respond. She realized he is lost in another state of delirium. "Doctor, what do you think happened? What's going on right now?"

"You should know. Oh god, what if you don't know?"

There was a pit forming in Donna's stomach. "Doctor, enough. Tell me what's going on."

"You're dead. Donna, you're gone. I lost you." He looked up at her then, eyes full or sorrow, regret, and guilt.

Donna sighed in relief. "I'm not dead, Doctor. I promise. It's the poison making you think so. You'll remember soon."

"I don't know what's going on." He began to cry again, and as much as Donna hated seeing him in such a vulnerable state, she was helpless but to comfort him in any way possible.

"Scoot over, you." She stood up and gently nudged him. He immediately obliged.

She sat on top of the covers and reclined back on her many pillows, opening her arm to invite the Doctor in for a cuddle. "Come here."

He instantly sidled against her, snaking an arm behind her back and the other around her middle, resting his head bravely near her chest. "I'm going to miss you so much, Donna. You were such a good friend to me."

"Hush, Doctor. Let's just sit together, yeah?" she didn't want to hear anything like that from him, especially since she wasn't dead, especially since she didn't deserve it.

He held onto her tighter while the rest of his body relaxed. He took in a deep breath, filling his nostrils and lungs with her smell. Her presence was tangible to the point of unbearable pain. "Promise you won't leave me. Don't ever leave me. If I close my eyes, that doesn't mean you have my permission to float away."

"I'll stay right here, I promise."

Minutes go by slowly. It is nearing the one-hour mark since she found him in her room when he begins to stir.

He leans away from her and knocks pillows to the floor. The duvet gets tangled around his feet and he groans in distress and discomfort.

"Hey, Doctor, it's okay, stop. You're having a bad dream." He thrashes against her as she tries to restrain him.

"Oi, snap out of it sunshine!" she shouts, and finally he wakes.

She pulls the chain on her lamp to switch it on, and can see sweat on his face. He's breathing hard.

"Are you alright?"

"I don't know." the Doctor answers.

"Are you… well, you?"

"Yeah, think so. The poison is gone."

"But that means-" Donna begins at the same time the Doctor wipes his hand down his face to see the saturation on his palm.

"The virus." He finishes.

"What do we do?" Donna asks.

"I have to ride this out, same as the poison. I'll be sick for a while, but it's nothing I can't handle. You should go enjoy the downtime, Donna. You've done enough for me; I don't want to keep inconveniencing you like this."

Donna scoffs. "Are you kidding? It's my fault you're in this mess to begin with, and even if it wasn't, I wouldn't leave you now, not like this. You need someone to take care of you."

"Honest, I'll be alright." He insists, but a series of coughs overtake him, and he can barely breathe by the time they subside.

"I'll be right back, I'm going to get a few things from around the Tardis."

He nods, still trying to catch his breath.

She returns with a bucket filled with all sorts of odds and ends, hanging on her wrist. She carries the same tray in her hands from earlier, this time loaded with a new and wider selection of goodies for the Doctor.

She brings the tray over, and he surveys the options: glass of water, hot tea, banana nut muffin, saltines, soup, an apple, and a cranberry scone. He takes the water and a cracker, nibbling and sipping slowly.

He leans over to look in the bucket, but she begins unloading everything in it before he has time to really look, showing off each item.

"I figure you'll stay here until you're better, and since neither one of us knows how long that'll be, I brought a bunch of things."

She began reciting the objects as she retrieved them from the bucket and laid them atop her dresser. "Thermometer, your bizarre toothbrush, toothpaste, change of clothes, heal-all capsules from Teeger's, extra blankets, rubber duck-"

"Donna." he looked at her questioningly.

"It's bigger on the inside. Keep up, Einstein." Donna winked.

"Let's see, I know there's one more thing…" she leaned three quarters of her arms into the bucket, rummaging around for the missing item.

"A-ha!" she cheered. "Here it is. From the console room." She proudly held up the mallet.

He furrowed his eyebrows and his mouth was open in unspoken wonder.

"To wallop you over the head if you tell me to bugger off. I'm staying by your side, Martian Man."

He chuckled.

"So…" she kicked off her shoes, grabbed the remote, and sat beside him on the bed. "What'll it be? The West Wing or Britain's Got Talent?"

"Whichever you want, Donna." he said kindly, reaching towards her tissue box to blow his nose.

"As long as it's not the Life Span of Amoeba again, I don't care. We can even watch something different." She offered.

"Really Donna, whatever you want is fine."

"We can watch Sherlock." She suggested, raising her eyebrows.

The Doctor turned his head toward her with wider eyes, instantly intrigued by her suggestion. '

"This is why you're my girl, Donna. Well done."

She just smiled, then smiled a bit sadder as she thought about just how much of a good friend she wasn't. Nevertheless, she started the episode of Sherlock they had left off on, and they sat together in comfortable silence.

Halfway through the episode, the Doctor groaned, rubbing his head.

When his hand came away, Donna put the back of her hand against his warm skin. "Time for those capsules I think." She reached for the bottle and unscrewed the cap.

"You know those won't work."

"Don't even, mister. I remember you said they won't be as powerful, but they'll still help eradicate the majority of symptoms." She insistently held out her palm with two half blue, half white tablets. He obediently popped them into his mouth and swallowed, chasing them down with a mouthful of water.

"I'll get a compress." Donna said.

"Thank you."

She returned with a purple washcloth rinsed with cool water. He sighed in relief as she laid it gently on his forehead. she pulled the switch on her lamp twice more to achieve the dimmest setting. "That should help a little."

"It does already." He agreed.

"Here, you should try eating something." She held out the bowl of soup, still warm thanks to the Tardis.

"Yes, you have to." she replied, reading the question in his eyes.

He took a few tentative mouthfuls, before putting it back on the tray.

"Don't like it?"

"Not that, Donna. Upset stomach."

"Oh, should I make you a cup of ginger tea instead?"

"Only if you promise to get something for yourself while you're at it."

"Alright, do you want me to bring you anything else?"

"Just you. Make sure you bring that back." He smiled sweetly, and she returned the grin before disappearing from the room.

Time went by, periods of taking his temperature, dishing out more capsules, rinsing the wash cloth with more cool water, and getting him to eat little by little.

It had been 24 hours since the virus had begun, and it looked as though it would get worse before it got better. The Doctor's temperature rose so high the next day that Donna was forced to get him into the bath. She added her gentlest scented bubble bath, and helped the Doctor strip down to his boxers before helping him into the water. He was barely conscious.

"Don't fall asleep, alright? Doctor, you hear me?"

"Mhmm." Was his drowsy response. She sat on the floor of the bathroom, back against the door.

"So what do you think? When you get better, I'll venture off to some spa, and you can have a whole week to yourself. I won't get in your way. You can do whatever you want, just no dangerous situations. That's the only condition."

He cracked an eye open and leaned his head to the side as it rested on the back of the tub. "Why would I want that?"

"You can have a break from me and my horrible luck."

"What are you talking about?" his face furrowed, disturbed by what she might be getting at.

"Well… don't you think it would be nice for a while? If you took a break from having to put up with me? You wouldn't have to worry about anyone not swapping spit with an alien." She offered.

"Donna, no. Don't do that."

"Do what?" he was more disturbed by the fact that she wasn't feigning innocence, she truly saw nothing wrong with what she was proposing.

"You think it's your fault. It's not. You can't think that I would ever want a break from you. You're my best friend. I want you with me always."

"That's the fever talking, you helpless git."

"Don't use insults as your defense. I mean it." he was clearly feeling better, the cool bath water was helping reduce his temperature tremendously.

Donna sighed, standing from the floor. "We'll talk about this some other time. You look exhausted. I'll get clothes for you, don't move."

"Oh Donna, and to think I was going to butterfly stroke all the way to the Coral Reef and back before you said that."

He can hear her soft chuckle from inside her room. She came back minutes later, reaching for the towel to help him dry off.

Once she got him back into her bed to rest, he reached for another tissue. This one however, was being handed to her, rather than to his own nose.

"What's this for?" she asked, but the Doctor smirked sadly, and pressed it near her eye. Donna was shocked that it was only then that she had felt the wetness on her skin.

"Oh." She took the tissue. "Must be dust." She dismissed, quickly sniffing and wiping away any other offending triggers to let him know how she was really feeling. He had said wonderful things to her, and she hadn't expected them. She was expecting to have to rebuild their friendship, to make repairs, but it turned out he hadn't blamed her at all. Part of her believed he was still feeling the effects of the poison for him to be so forgiving.

"What's your temp?" she asked, noticing he had the thermometer in his mouth.

"Normal." He delivered with a smile.

"Good. You get some sleep, yeah? I'll make you anything you want when you wake up. How's that sound?"

"Divine." He purred. He was Donna's number one fan in the kitchen, ranking right up there with her Gramps. He buried his face in Donna's shampoo-scented pillows, and Donna pulled her blanket up over his shoulders and properly tucked him in.

After the Doctor had fallen asleep, she left her bedroom to do some mindless cleaning around the already spotless Tardis. She put a slow cooker soup together and hit the showers. Hours had passed. She had periodically been checking in on the Doctor, but he seemed to be fine.

It got later, so she dished herself up a bowl of soup and made a cuppa. Carrying the tea-filled vessel to the living room on board the ship, she flipped on the telly, grabbed a throw pillow and a light blanket, and settled in for the sleep she had been deprived of.

"Hey." A voice broke through her subconscious.

"Mmm." She rolled over towards the edge of the couch.

"Wake up, Donna. It's me."

When the voice finally registered in her half-functioning brain, she jolted up. "Doctor! Are you alright? Is something wrong?"

"No, no, no, Donna! Calm down, I'm alright. The virus is gone. I wanted to thank you for taking care of me. Soup smells delicious by the way." He smiled, the corners of his mouth curving towards his eyes.

"I'm glad you're feeling better." She sat up fully on the couch, raking hands down her face to clear away any remaining signs of her sleepiness.

"You should get some more sleep, in your own bed, which I've washed and made neat again for you. Sorry I inhabited it."

"Don't apologize, you numpty. You sure the virus is all gone? And the poison?"

"Positive. Nothing to worry about anymore. There's just one thing."

Donna didn't speak, she was too afraid.

"I wanted you to know that I meant everything. You have nothing to blame yourself for. You can't put it on your shoulders. And you should also know that I would never, _ever_ , want a 'break' from you. What a preposterous notion." He placed a hand on her shoulder, and used his other hand to lift her chin towards his eyes.

"You could never be a burden to me. You're special to me, got it? No more nonsense like that."

"If I make you French toast tomorrow morning - wait, what time is it?"

"3 in the morning." He sheepishly replied.

"Oh well, as I was saying – if I make French toast in the morning with fresh honey banana slices, will you leave me alone about the nonsense?"

"Do you believe me?"

She paused for a few beats, "Yes."

"Then I will absolutely leave you alone about the nonsense. Time Lord guarantee." He held up his hand in a mock-scout's honor fashion.

She laid herself back down on the couch.

"Donna, I made your bed." The Doctor protested.

"Too tired." Came her muffled response as she cuddled into the back of the couch.

The Doctor laughed lightly, "Alright. Have it your way, Earthgirl." He tucked her in, and left the library.

The Doctor didn't blame her. An enormous weight lifted from her shoulders. Donna drifted back to sleep with wonderful, warm thoughts filling her mind and heart, the most important one of all was it not being her fault. Even if it was, having a friend like the Doctor who wouldn't blame her regardless, made her feel all the more at peace with the entire situation.


	28. Sunshine Go Away Today

**Sunshine Go Away Today**

She scrubbed soap all over the last fork in the sink, gave it a rinse, and placed it triumphantly in the drain board. She took the towel off her shoulder and began drying the plates, bowls, pots, and pans, stacking them in organized piles on the table before putting them away in the proper places.

While she went about her task, she sang to herself, "Sunshine go away today. Don't feel much like dancing. Some man's gone he's tried to run my life, don't know what he's asking."

"Why you singin' that, love?" Shaun asked as he came into the kitchen.

"Oh, hiya darling." She walked over to him and pecked him on the lips. "I don't know. It's been a while since I've heard that one, and it got stuck in my head outta nowhere."

"That's weird." Shaun commented, before grabbing an apple off the table and a bottle of water out of the fridge. "I'll be in the garage if you need me."

"Alright, sweetheart." She replied, going back to drying the dishes and humming the same tune.

Outside the kitchen window, the Doctor wiped a tear from his eye and inhaled a sobering breath. Every now and then he would pop into her timeline to see how she was doing. He couldn't help but feel like part of her subconscious remembered him, especially when she sang that song. She always called him Sunshine, and he was the one who drastically altered the course of her life that fateful, dreadful day, 6 years ago.

Inside, Donna placed the last bowl on the table, dried and waiting to be put away. A wave of sadness came over her suddenly, and she slowly lowered herself into the nearest kitchen table chair. She sat there for a long time, wiping away the tears that slowly trekked down her cheek. She cursed them mentally – what was there to cry about? Why had she gotten so upset all of a sudden?

Some part of Donna vowed never to sing that song again.


	29. Terranoya

_Hope you enjoy the Donna whump!_

 **Terranoya**

Terranoya… It was the name of the game. To Donna, it sounded like a combination of terror and paranoia, and though the Doctor assured her that wasn't possible, as the Tekorians had no understanding of the English language, it seemed a lot like that to her as she stood in line.

Across the sandy arena, she could see him pressed up against the black bars. He was standing isolated from the others in an attempt to make it easier for her to find him. Not everyone sharing the space with him knew someone on the other side; they were lucky, because it was worse to know. He was calling her name, telling her to run, telling her that it would be alright. He apologized relentlessly with his eyes. She couldn't hear any of it over the loud din of the crowd anyway, excitedly cheering for the colors of the teams entering the space and standing in the center of the arena. Red, blue, black, and silver were the colors of their uniforms. This was undoubtedly a popular sport on Tekkas.

It had changed considerably according to the Doctor; it was taking on a much more violent and dangerous theme. They had come to the planet Tekkas to discover and observe just how out of line things had grown to be, but nothing could have prepared them for the way this turned out.

The teams all carried long poles with electrical tasers at the end. They held the poles in the air like trophies and pulled the triggers a few times for fun, to energize the already rambunctious crowd. Sparks flew from the tips in shades that matched the colors of their team apparel. They lined up in a formation that resembled a barricade between the players who were preparing to run, and the players who waited on the other side, behind the bars of the long rectangular cell. The objective was whoever's team tagged the most people, the most times, would win.

A disembodied voice blared over the speakers, announcing the start of the festivities. The audience periodically roared with applause. Donna looked around at the people beside her. There were hundreds of them. An air of tension spread over the atmosphere, and her fellow contestants crouched into position, preparing to bolt when the cue was given. She wanted to help them, even by wishing them luck or making teams among them, but there wasn't time for any of that, and she wouldn't be able to communicate with them anyway.

She looked across to the Doctor again, and took a deep, shuddering breath. She followed suit of everyone else, and lowered herself to the ground, bending at the knees. One knee ghosted against the surface of the gritty dirt beneath her, and both her palms touched the floor. Her eyes and focus rested squarely on her best friend. She knew she wouldn't be able to escape a few shocks, there were simply too many of them. _Just get to him, that's all you have to do. Don't stop running, just make it to the Doctor. Make it to the Doctor. Make it to the Doctor._

The Doctor's fingers are clasped around the iron bars in a tight grasp. He is panting with nerves, wishing beyond all hope that Donna was in his place and he could take hers. None of the others near him were worried, they got lucky this time around, all they had to do was hold onto the poor players who actually made it across. Holding onto to someone behind the bars was considered a complete, finished run. It was a thrilling rarity, as more than half of the players fell unconscious (or worse) by the time the game was over.

The buzzer sounds and she bolts. The Doctor can see flashes of her ginger hair, glimpses of her legs pounding against the ground, thighs and calves pumping hard. Her arms sailed like piston rods on a train as they crossed in front of her body. He catches her expression when the first jolt of electricity scorches her. He can hear the scream.

It's a blizzard of fury and chaos once the buzzer sounds. People run in all directions. She just runs straight, which she soon realizes was the obvious choice, and probably a mistake. It isn't long before the first probe bites into her with sharp tendrils of white hot fire, causing her to holler involuntarily against the assault on her flesh.

Some players band together and run across desperately like a school of fish in the ocean. Others simply run. She can't see all of the teams around her as she channels all of her being into reaching the Doctor. Even though she can't see them near her, she certainly feels the tasers when the team members tag her. She bumped straight into someone, and was about to apologize, but she looked in horror at the person dressed in red, who quickly jabbed the pole straight at her chest. She doubled over but didn't waste too much time, she had to keep moving. She felt like they were all cattle running away from being branded though there was no way to escape.

How long had it been? Already she was having to jump over bodies as they dropped. She took a moment to look around but it was useless - she couldn't distinguish the men on teams from the people trying to reach the other side.

When she was halfway across, she could hear the same voice echoing some sort of announcement. The crowd cheered ravenously, and it caused her heart to sink into the pit of her stomach. Suddenly, there was a new noise, some kind of mechanical whirring. She could see spheres rolling on the ground and tripping the people in front of her. Were they motorized? She didn't know how they were controlled or how they were steered, if there were tiny drivers inside or if they were made of some unknown space energy. She jumped over one as it headed straight for her feet, but as her feet planted back down on the ground, another sphere whizzed by and caught her ankle. She landed hard on the dirt.

"Get up, Donna!" She could surprisingly hear the Doctor calling her, which meant she must be closer to the other side than she thought. As she looked up to see how much further she had to go, she felt the tasers bite into the backs of her legs. She hissed through her teeth and scrambled to get away, trying to stand, but they wouldn't stop. People dressed in red, blue, black, and silver swarmed near her and they all took advantage of her being on the ground in such a vulnerable state.

She rolled herself over and started kicking at them. some of them left instantly, but the ones who were there since she first fell were determined to take her out of the game altogether. They kept up their attack and stabbed her all over with their poles. One of the team players dressed in black jabbed her right in the belly, and didn't relent. As he continued to hold the taser in place, an agonized scream ripped itself from deep in her throat though she tried to make no sound at all. She didn't want to give this bastard the satisfaction.

"Donna!" the Doctor shouted helplessly from the bars ten feet away from her. Her fingers are digging into the dirt as the waves of pain continue to roll through her to the core. She can feel the blackness seep in from the corners of her eyes.

"Donna, come on! Get up! Listen to my voice, Donna! Please don't give up!"

She growled in frustration, letting the noise tear itself from her mouth. She slung a handful of dirt at her aggressor, causing him to stumble backwards. She crawls over onto her hands and knees and makes some progress. Finally she stands and limps towards the Doctor's waiting arms and encouraging words.

"Almost there. Almost there. Almost there." She chants quietly to herself.

She huffs in relief when she collapses into the Doctor's arms through the bars. He wraps his arms around her tightly, gathering her as close to him as he could to protect her and show that she made the run and was no longer someone to attack. She was breathing heavily and holding onto the Doctor with as much strength as she had left.

"I've got you, it's okay." He soothes her, stroking his thumb across her back as he refuses to relinquish his grip. They are both low to the ground, Donna unable to stand.

A couple of nasty players who she kicked at before run by and take cheap shots. She cries out and whimpers, her body tensing at the contact.

"That's not allowed, you're breaking the rules!" the Doctor hollers, but they seem to laugh as they run back away. A new wave comes towards them, four of them with tasers ready. Her fingers curl into the fabric of his coat as she prepares for it, and buries her face. He realizes this is just for fun – the game is over now and the zaps they're inflicting are just for kicks, no points are being awarded now. The Doctor pushes away some of the poles before they connect with her body, and yowls as some of them mistakenly send shocks through him.

Finally the swooping stops and the sound of the tasers dissipate. She's resting her forehead against his through the bars now, the game truly at its end.

An employee comes to let the people behind bars free. "I'm not leaving her." he tells the employee when he approaches him – he's the last one in the cell.

"If she's alive you can go out like everyone else and enter the arena to get her." he says monotonously, and steps back.

Donna takes it upon herself to retract her body from the Doctor's arms and stands on shaky legs.

"I'll be right here." She says, and the Doctor runs out of the cell. Not more than a minute goes by and he is running towards her.

"Come on, let's get the hell out of here. Can you walk?" He asks her.

"Just about." She answers softly.

"Alright, lean on me." He delicately takes her weight against him, and helps her back to the Tardis, limping all the while.

"Are you alright?" she asks him. "I heard you yell before when I wasn't looking."

"Yeah, I'll be fine. They got me a couple times when they were aiming for you. Donna, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, Doctor, I'll be fine, too. Just promise we'll figure out a way to shut that horrible event down. Nobody should have to endure that. I don't care how popular a sport it is or how much revenue it generates."

"We will, Donna. I promise." He looks down at the ground but a splotch of color catches his eye and alarm springs back to life.

"You're bleeding." He reaches out to her stomach and brushes her shirt out of the way, but before he can get a good look, she winces and shrinks back from his touch.

"Don't" is all she manages through gritted teeth.

"I'm taking a look at that when we get home." He says softly but demanding. He knows her too well; she always tries to patch herself up rather than letting him help.

She doesn't argue with him this time, which makes him nervous.

In the medical bay, he gingerly sits her down on a lounge chair, knowing that to scoot up on a medical bed would probably hurt too much.

"Okay, first thing's first." He says aloud, opening up a cabinet. He walks over to her with a tube of ointment. "You're going to have to let me examine your abdomen, but for now hold this down on it to make sure the bleeding's stopped." He hands her a folded cloth. "As long as there aren't any others as severe as that one, you can apply this handy dandy gem to all the other wounds. They'll heal within three days, completely, 100%, as if they weren't even there. Molto bene." He says, handing her the unmarked bottle.

"It has no name." she remarked.

"I know, I invented it, haven't thought of a title, though." He glances at her stomach. "You're not pressing down, Donna."

"That's because it hurts, Dumbo."

He quirks his mouth and crouches beside the chair, hovering his hand over the hem of her shirt. "Can I?"

"Yeah."

He lifts the fabric of her shirt and folds it back. The taser had been onto her skin so long that it not only opened a wound that bled, but it burned her flesh, and then burned what was burned already. It was red, ugly, angry, and it pained his hearts that it was causing his Donna so much pain. He wondered how she was able to walk all that way with his arm around her waist.

"Well?" she asked worriedly, as he had been lost in thought gazing down at the damage. "Will I live?"

"Of course, Donna." He stood up to retrieve a hypospray, and paused when he noticed her apprehension. "You won't feel it. It'll be like a rush of cool air." He said before administering the numbing agent just above her hip bone.

Once the sensation was over, Donna couldn't feel his hands as he wiped away the dry blood. "I can do that, you know."

"I know you can, you're brilliant after all, but letting me help you makes me feel better, which is why I know you're going to let me this time." The Doctor said honestly, and Donna returned his sad, guilty look. He finished cleaning the wound, applying a generous amount of ointment before adhering a bandage to her stomach. "There. You'll be good as new in no time."

He slides over an ottoman and places her ankle on top of it. "What are you doing?" she asks angrily as the movement sends ripples of pain up her leg. She involuntarily yanks her foot away but he holds onto it. "Doctor."

He waits before he answers her, pressing and turning her ankle experimentally, yet with the utmost gentility and care. "It's sprained, Donna. I have to wrap it." He takes care of it within five minutes.

She sighed, standing with the Doctor's help to test out his handiwork. "Not bad."

"I'm glad you approve." He smiled. "Since we'll be staying in for the next few days until you're wounds are healed, how about we order in and put on the telly?"

"Alright then, but I'm picking. We're having sushi tonight, no arguments." She said with finality.

The Doctor's expression flattened. "I'll get four orders of harumaki. What do you want, salmon avocado roll as usual?"

"You're only going to eat spring rolls?"

"You know how I feel about sushi."

"But it's delicious!"

"Not to this Time Lord."

Forty-five minutes later:

"Of all the weird things you eat on other planets – hang on, of all the things you make _me_ eat on other planets, and you won't eat sushi? There are some things about you I'll never understand." Donna admonished. She dipped a piece of salmon sushi into the soy sauce with her chopsticks, and popped the scrumptious morsel into her mouth.

The Doctor eyed her suspiciously as he stabbed a piece of (fully cooked) orange-glazed chicken. "I could say the same about you, Noble."

"Will you just try one piece?" Donna begged after swallowing.

The Doctor quirked an eyebrow at her, chewing on a bite of harumaki.

"Please? Just one, come on." she begged again, this time adding her best puppy-dog-eyes impersonation. She nudged her plate across the table towards him.

The Doctor took one piece and squished it between his fingers, looking very unenthused and very unimpressed.

"Oh, don't play with it, you numpty! Come on," she raised a piece to her mouth, "One, two, three." She counted off, and they both ate their sushi at the same time.

She thoroughly enjoyed watching his face expression range from disgusted, to complacent, to surprised, to happy. "Wow! Can I… can I have another one?"

She burst into laughter at his question, but it didn't last long, as the action caused tremendous pain to flare up from her bandaged wound. She winced greatly.

"Donna?" He stood up immediately but she held her hand up to stop him.

"Fine, I'm fine." But the Doctor could read her like a book; she was struggling.

"Hang on, Donna."

He returned to the table with a hypospray. "Lean back in your chair for me. That's it." When she obliged, he raised her shirt and lowered the hem of her pants slightly, administering another dose of numbing medication above her hip to take away the pain.

He stroked his thumb over the point of application to soothe the skin though he knew it wasn't painful. "Better?" he asked her after a few moments.

"Yes, thank you. Sorry, Spaceman."

"Don't do that, Donna. There's no need." He offered her a small smile, and she returned it, before sitting properly again in her chair.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Donna asked playfully, hoping to sway the mood that had taken over the room.

"Mmm… calling to order more sushi?"

Donna chuckled carefully, "No, silly. I was thinking ice cream and telly."

"Only if we can have sushi for breakfast."

"People don't eat sushi for breakfast, Doctor." she pointed out, looking at him strangely.

"We can be the first! Haven't you always wanted to start a trend, Donna?"

"No, and I don't think sushi for breakfast is where I would begin anyway. However, don't let me stop you. If you want to have sushi for breakfast, I think you should have it, just as long as I get to sit next to you and say 'I told you so' in your ear." She finished slyly, with a smug smile gently tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"If that's all I have to let you do so I can eat sushi, where do I sign?" he jokingly replied. Donna rolled her eyes.

"Don't think just because I can't chase your arse down the hall doesn't mean I won't enlist the help of the Old Girl to help me."

The Doctor sobered up quickly - he knew there was almost nothing the Tardis wouldn't do for Donna.

"Two scoops of cookies and cream, coming right up."


	30. The Star We Made

**The Star We Made**

My Dearest Donna,

Today the Tardis did a clever thing. She reminded me of a project you and I started long ago. It was after our trip to the Shimmering Water Rapids on the planet Kyro. We had the best time that day, not a single thing went wrong. Neither of us could come up with a single complaint about the food we ate or the weather. Even the resident Kyroans were kind to us. We went to the plaza where there were places to sit before we rode gleegers (Kryoan bicycles) to the waterfront. People were collecting gases from the dirt and the plants. They were making their own stars, and you were so amazed and mesmerized by the process.

We watched them in fascination, well, you did more so than me. Crafting custom stars was something I already knew about. And then you turned to me and said, "Let's make a star, Doctor. One for you and me. One to showcase all the glowing things in our friendship. Please, Spaceman?" You begged, and how could I say no? A magnificent, hardened Time Lord melted by the look in your eyes. That look of wonder and adventure and excitement that I could never have gotten tired of seeing. The look in your eyes that so many of my past companions lacked. I mean, sure, they were all eager to go out and see the universe, travel space and time, but there was just something about you, Donna. There always was.

So we walked around and I helped you collect all different kinds of gases, and we made our own blend. I explained to you that it takes time to form a star, that the gases need to combine and transform over a period of many years. You didn't mind, because while we waited for it to form, we would be having adventures and saving alien civilizations from disaster. So we carried the canister back to the Tardis, and she created a room to house and sustain our take-home experiment.

You can imagine my surprise when I opened the door. I'd nearly forgotten about our project since everything happened. Years have gone by, and finally that little jar of wispy tendrils has grown into a sphere of wonderful illumination, a real star. I'm sending it out into the sky after I finish this letter to you. I just wanted you to know that it exists, our star. It will shine in the universe, representing something I'll miss for as long as I, and all my regenerations, live. It's our friendship, Donna. That's what our star is, what it was always meant to be. I hope one day you look up in the sky and recognize it, just a small part of you.

I miss you, Donna Noble.

With love,

The Doctor

* * *

 _Think I might have to work on this one a bit and re-upload... not sure I like it much at all... feel free to share your opinions!_


	31. A Little Friendly Competition

**A Little Friendly Competition**

The Doctor came into the library with two cups of tea, and a couple of biscuits for each of them. Donna was laying down on the carpet on her belly, legs crossed behind her, and foot tapping along with the classical music she had turned on in the Doctor's momentary absence.

"You started without me?" he asked, crestfallen.

"Well, to be honest I didn't think you'd mind. You always finish first anyway." She said, looking up briefly from the mess in front of her – several puzzle pieces were scattered around. She was organizing them in neat little piles.

"That's cheating, Donna Noble."

She scoffed on a laugh, "Seriously? I haven't even got two pieces matched yet."

"Alright, alright." He relented, sitting down and crossing his legs. He opened his box of puzzle pieces and dumped them out unceremoniously.

"Where are my-" He patted the front pocket of his shirt, and spun himself around to look under the cushions of the sofa. Donna cleared her throat intentionally, and the Doctor turned to her.

"But those are mine, you thief!"

Donna peered at him through the lenses of his aptly titled brainy specs.

"I _knew_ these made you smarter. And here I was thinking they were just for show the entire time." She said, a clever, amused smile forming across her mouth. Her eyes sparkled in the firelight with a contagious playfulness.

The Doctor let out an involuntary choking noise when he looked down to see that Donna was a quarter of the way through putting her puzzle together, a mystical castle taking shape.

The Doctor shrank visibly, "I have a 3-dimensional puzzle, Donna. I needed the advantage."

"Ha!" she burst. "Can I get that in writing or something? The Doctor needing an advantage over little old me. Slide over 'super temp' – super genius is here to stay." She announced enthusiastically, wiggling her fingers when she mentioned her previous super temp title.

"Well you _are_ staggeringly talented at puzzles, even without my glasses."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Martian." She waved a disapproving finger at him, eyes down at the floor, clicking another piece into place with a satisfactory sigh.

She gazed up at him, "Better get a move on if you're planning on finishing by the end of the century." He could see that she was stifling her own laughter as she returned to her task.

He exhaled loudly and cracked his knuckles. He stood up and jogged in place for a few seconds, and rolled his head on his shoulders. He wolfed down both his biscuits and gulped at his tea before sitting back in place. Donna was now halfway finished.

"You're going down, Noble."

"Fat chance." She muttered, bringing the rim of the mug to her lips. He heard her, but was now entirely engulfed in completing the puzzle.

Twenty minutes later:

It had been nail-bitingly close towards the end. Donna patted him on the back, "It's alright, Doctor." He sat defeated with his head in his hands. "You're still my favorite Spaceman."

"Can I get that in writing?" he mimicked her earlier request.

Donna frowned sympathetically. "We'll see about that, how about for now I go make us some dinner? That should cheer you up."

"Not all that hungry." He said.

She raised her eyebrows from behind him, shifting her weight to one hip and crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Even if my famous chicken and mushroom pies are on the menu?"

He spun around and stood up, his expression and entire self appearing substantially rejuvenated, "Now you're talking!"

* * *

 _I promise I'll be catching up on review replies soon! Thank you for leaving them as always - do know that I appreciate them dearly. :)_


	32. A Really Nice Night

_A long, long hiatus, but I am back! Let's just say life has been way beyond what the limitations of the word 'crazy' allow..._

 **A Really Nice Night**

The water was crashing in waves on the crystal beach far behind them, just loud enough to register on their senses. The identical wooden planks of the boardwalk stretched long and parallel to the sea, and the 4 mellow burning suns were well beneath the horizon. The atmosphere on this planet was a lot like the one on Earth during summer. Donna was amazed at the feeling of being so comfortable in a foreign place, a very foreign place - she was light-years from home. The thin alien on her right probably had something to do with the at-home feeling she was experiencing as well as the climate.

The Doctor and she had spent the whole day on the planet; they basked in the sunlight, they went to the equivalent of an aquarium to look as several exotic sea creatures, they attended a lovely dinner at a posh restaurant which the Doctor had reserved in advance, and now they leaned back against the railing, feeling the breeze tug at their hair lightly, and brush like feathers across their skin. It was warm and welcoming.

They listened to the live band playing on the nearby stage; it was an outdoor concert of peaceful, rhythmic tunes that Donna didn't recognize, but still thoroughly enjoyed. They stood on the far outskirts of the large crowd, enjoying time alone, and time together.

Donna rested her head on the Doctor's shoulder. "This is really nice, Spaceman."

He leaned his head on hers, then pressed his lips against her hair in a loving gesture, kissing the ginger hair gently. "It is - we should do this more often."

She gazed up at him with relaxed and amused eyes, "You mean whenever we're not trying to rescue civilizations or stop the universe from imploding on itself at the mercy of some unforgiving species?"

The Doctor nodded emphatically with a smile, "Precisely."

She giggled, "Sounds good to me, Martian boy." The Doctor coiled his left arm around her waist and pulled her closer into his side.

"I sure do love you, Donna Noble." he said, sighing contentedly.

"I love you too, Doctor." she smiled, snaking her arms around his midriff.

They continued listening to the music and the ocean waves long into the night.


	33. Getting to Know You

**Getting to Know You**

 _I imagine this took place shortly before Journey's End… if like me, just half of you follows the aired story line._

* * *

"You know, we've been friends for a couple years now, and even though you do an awful lot of yakking, you don't really say much." Donna said aloud thoughtfully, standing against the entrance from the hall to the console room. The Doctor was tinkering.

"What's this about? I could say the same about you, with all your shouting." He admitted from beneath the Tardis's mechanisms. Donna flipped her hair off her shoulder, and walked across to the central column.

"Oi, don't try distracting me. I like to think we're pretty good friends, even pretty close ones, but we don't really know each other, do we? You don't know much about my life, I don't know much about yours."

The Doctor didn't look convinced as he glanced at her from the floor.

Donna sighed. "We don't have to chat about our life histories, we don't even have to start right now, but I think we should do more real talking. We talk a lot over tea and hobnobs, but we're more often running about and nearly killing ourselves. I don't want to go through this entire fantastic journey without knowing _you_. The man behind the heroism, the last of his people, who has traveled a long way, and seen so many places, who must have so many unshed emotions and stories to tell." He pulled himself up from the floor and regarded her momentarily.

"It's not all green grass and blue skies, Donna." He replied, in a tone of gentle warning.

"Well I hope you certainly don't think my life was rainbows and candy floss either, because I've got news for you Sunshine, there are plenty of dark and scary places in my past."

"I've never had a companion do this. It's weird." He shrank on his heels slightly as he pondered her proposition.

"It's only weird because it's human, you prawn." She smirked, playfully nudging his arm.

He crossed his arms across his chest. "You're something else." He said, observing her quizzically.

"Thanks very much, now come on – let's go get dinner. I'm starving."


End file.
